Anthill
by Wayward
Summary: Completed! Venom's got a new plan to take over the Insecticons, but since everyone on Coleop has his own agenda, he might just have to get in line...
1. Remember Me

**Remember Me**

       Deep in a Coleop forest, in a clearing near a cave, there was, for want of a better term, a campfire.

       There was no actual fire; the beings who camped there didn't need the extra warmth, nor did they need to cook their food, and the light from Coleop's three moons was adequate to see by.  Three beings were in the loose, wide circle; two humanoids sitting on fallen trees, one insectoid crouched over his meal and chewing loudly.

       One asked, "_Must_ you do that?"

       The bronze locust looked up.  "What?  Eat?"

       He couldn't help eating, and metal jaws on metal food meant he couldn't help eating loudly.  Still…  "Why don't you just eat trees like the rest of us?  Food is food," said Chopshop irritably.

       "Why don't you like me to eat coleop?  Food is food."

       Chopshop sighed, an indication that he had no desire to continue the argument, and Ransack returned to his noisy mastication.  Admitting to the warrior that watching him with his face buried in the body of a giant insect, with the creature's legs still twitching feebly was… unnerving… was probably not the best way to keep on his good side.  At best, Ransack would laugh it off and forget about it.  At worst, it would be seen as a sign of weakness, and Chopshop wasn't sure just how far the locust would go with his cannibalistic tendencies…

       He didn't know why they stayed together: Ransack treated them with the same casual contempt he treated everyone, Barrage was always off in his own little world, Venom acted like he owned them…  Chopshop paused, very aware that their leader was – for the time being – not there.  "Why _do_ we stay with Venom?  He's always bossing us around, and it's not like we need him for anything."

       "We have no choice but to serve him," said Barrage.  "He has holds on us."

       The stag beetle sighed.  "Oh.  Right."

       Ransack paused in his crunching.  "Where _is_ the noisemaker, anyway?  He's been gone for days."

       "Who knows and who cares?  Off scouting around, I suppose," shrugged Chopshop.  "I'm just as happy if he gets eaten by a morphobot."

       "Don't say such things.  Venom has a plan," said Barrage.

       "Yeah?  What?"

       "He hasn't discussed it with me," said Barrage simply.

       There was an explosive burst of laughter from Ransack.  "You're just makin' this up.  Venom doesn't have any idea what he's doing, but he tells you he has, and you believe it."

       Chopshop seized on this: "Why do _you_ stay with him, then?"

       "None 'a your business," snapped the locust, and Chopshop knew he meant, "I don't know."

* * *

       It had been months, and Coronapis still treated her mobility with the same joyful wonder that she had when she first tried her legs.

       To Shrapnel, it was just another thing to love about her.  Having been trapped in her chamber for the first sixteen years of her existence, Coronapis only returned to her powerful, immobile form when she had to.  The rest of the time, she wanted to be _out_ – in the Hive, outside, it didn't matter.

       She was their Queen – not their ruler, but their Vector Sigma – and they treated her as if she was just another Insecticon.  Coronapis appreciated this; she wouldn't know how to handle being treated like their leader.  This way she could walk around without stopping the flow of work, and talk to people and have them answer truthfully.  She came across as interested in everyone and what they were doing… and, in fact, she was.

       When not in the thick of things in the Hive, Coronapis could usually be found outside.  It was where she was now, her hand tucked into Shrapnel's, exclaiming over this tree or that cloud.  Today there was nothing else to do, and the pair had wandered far, stopping occasionally to nibble the scenery.  Once in a while, one would point out that they should start back, and neither would act on it.

       The conversation had wandered, as conversations do, and having temporarily exhausted the topic of their friends, had drifted in the opposite direction.  "Kickback wants to hunt Venom and his cohorts down, down," said Shrapnel, then made a face.  "Kickback has issues, issues."

       "He _was_ killed by Ransack… sort of," said Coronapis.  With Bombshell's help, Kickback's mind had actually been in another body at the time, but through that form's optics, he watched his real body get torn apart.  Soon after, Bombshell recreated his shell, and Kickback was now back to normal.  As normal as possible, at least.

       Coronapis sighed then.  "I can't help but think it's my fault they're like that, the renegade Insecticons."  She spoke only of Ransack, Chopshop, and Barrage.  Venom was a Decepticon, one who had his mind placed in an Insecticon body to attempt a revenge on the original Insecticons.  Shrapnel, Kickback, and Bombshell were known as Sabocons before the accident that made them Insecticons, and Venom had always thought he should lead them.  "Maybe I should start guiding the minds I bestow, to keep this from happening again…"  In her chamber, as the Insecticon Queen, Coronapis was tied to the Hive and its databanks.  From there she would randomly pick a half-dozen personality traits and channel them into the shell presented.  With a basic personality ( training and intelligence was pre-programmed into the shell's hard drive, ) the new Insecticon could start its life, gathering experience as it went.

       "_No_, no," said Shrapnel emphatically, catching her shoulders.  "It has to be neutral, has to be chance, otherwise there's no point, no point.  Where would you stop?"

       "Only to keep them from becoming psychopaths."

       Shrapnel shook his head.  "They were obsessive types, yes, but not killers.  Not until Venom got his hands on them, on them.  It wasn't your fault.  It was just random, random."

       "Then I… I don't know if I can be the Insecticon Queen any more."

       "But it's what you _are_, you are."

       "Not always," she said, stepping back and waving at the sky.  "Not right now, for instance.  Right now I'm Coronapis – just Coronapis – an Insecticon out for a walk with her bondmate.  All the things that make me the Queen are back in my chamber.  With modifications, anyone could plug themselves into the equipment and act as the channel."  Coronapis sighed, looking at her hands.  "I'm much less out here; not as strong, not as powerful, no transformation capabilities even, but I prefer it."

       Shrapnel took up her hands.  "We need you.  You're our only advantage over the Decepticons, cons.  The Insecticons will eventually die out without a Queen."

       "Then find another; one who can be objective," said Coronapis.  "After all that's happened, I'm not sure if I can keep from tampering any more.  Perhaps Bombshell could take the job.  He _does_ have psychiatric training and would understand…"

       "Bombshell is the biggest meddler I know, I know," Shrapnel countered.

       "Not Bombshell, then.  There must be _someone_…  And…"  She peered up at Shrapnel.  "Will you mind if I'm just Coronapis?"

       He let go of her hands to sweep her off her feet.  "Silly creature, creature.  I love you because you _are_ Coronapis; why should I care what your function is, as long as you're happy?  Still, you've been a very good Queen, and it will be difficult to find one better, better."

       Coronapis patted the side of his face.  "Of course I'll hold my post as long as I must; I wouldn't abandon my people.  Still, if a replacement is possible…"

       "One rule: No trying to specifically create a successor, successor."

       "Certainly not," said Coronapis.  "Besides, I know I don't know enough psychology yet to create a specific type of personality."

* * *

       Bombshell was not, by nature, a tidy being.  In fact, one could say that the Hive's main laboratory was the messiest room in the station, between the half-finished projects lying on every available surface, technical drawings scattered about, and occasional cobweb hanging from the ceiling.  It probably didn't help that the space was shared by anyone who wanted it.  However, when Bombshell put something down, he knew where it was.  Currently he was digging through the mountain of junk on his desk, searching for a few particular tools that, by rights, should have been there.

       The weevil sighed resignedly, straightened, and yelled: _"SKITTER!  GIVE ME BACK MY STUFF!"_

       "You bellowed, Your Weevishness?"

       Bombshell traced the source of the voice, looking up to where a brown head peeked down from an access vent.  Skitter wasn't a kleptomaniac so much as she was a scatterhead, constantly bouncing from one project to the next, with the bad habit of borrowing Bombshell's tools.  She was actually quite brilliant and the best multitasker Bombshell knew, but dealing with her works-in-progress was exasperating.

       With a neat twist, Skitter hopped down from the vent.  She extended one hand, meekly proffering the borrowed toolkit… at least, it would have been meek if she wasn't grinning.  "Well, you _weren't_ using them and they were _right_ there…"

       "Why, _why_ were you in the vent?"

       She looked around conspiratorially.  "I was hiding from Frostbite.  She just dragged in another coleop, and with most of the techs busy at the competition, I just _know_ she'll want me to help with dissecting it so she can catalogue it.  Ick!  I get squeamish just doing _repairs_ on people!"

       Which was another odd trait of hers, and one that Bombshell didn't entirely understand himself.  Many of the Insecticons still had hold-over ways of thinking from when they were non-sentient coleop – in Skitter's case, remembering organic life, she couldn't stand dealing with the inner workings of others, despite the fact that it was no different than working with any other machine.  Those few times when she herself needed repairs, no matter how minor, she'd put herself into stasis until it was over.

       Bombshell took the toolkit from her and turned away, only to have the ant tag along after him.  "What are you working on, anyway?  Do you need help?  Can I help?"

       "No, I do not need help, just my tools.  Don't you have your own things to work on?"

       She waved a hand, dismissing her projects.  "It'll all wait for me to get back."

       "Until someone complains about the clutter you left in the vent?"

       "That stuff's at a delicate stage.  I can let it sit, but I can't move it until I finish."  She peered up at him.  "And I can't finish it without your tools.  No one else has a Class Five frequency pulse-modulator.  I checked."

       The weevil tapped a door control, which opened the way to his private office, where he kept his pickier work.  "Put in a request with Procurement to get one the next time the Decepticons send supplies."

       If Bombshell thought the suggested minor task would get rid of Skitter, he was wrong.  She ducked into his office before him, and immediately sat at his desk.  "I'll do that later.  The next shipment isn't for a week.  I doubt you need yours that long.  And if I help, maybe I can get it back faster.  So, what are we doing?"

       "Will you just go away?  I'm busy."

       "Ooooh!"  Skitter turned and stomped a foot in mock-petulance.  "You are the stodgiest, most boringest creature I have ever met!"  With that, she stormed out the door.

       A few seconds later, she peeked back in and grinned.  "Which is probably why you're so much fun.  I'll be holding your flux inductors hostage until I get the modulator back."

* * *

       They had both lost their weapons long ago; the fight was now a combination of claws, skill, and dirty tricks.  It was a deadly dance, and both combatants were showing it through scratches, gashes, and dents.  Suffice to say, Kickback and Dagger were enjoying themselves immensely.

       Quick as his sparring partner, Dagger sidestepped a kick, then did one of his own to send Kickback sprawling.  The assassin bug planted one foot on Kickback's chest, pinioning the smaller Insecticon.  He looked down and asked severely: "Do you yield?"

       Kickback laughed, despite his predicament.  "You've been taking 'How To Pose Like A Decepticon' lessons, haven't you, Dagger?  Yeah, I suppose you beat…"  Suddenly, Kickback shifted to his grasshopper-mode, throwing his opponent from what was now his back.  Lightning-quick, he turned and pounced on the other warrior, pinning him on his stomach.  "Shouldn't pose, friend."

       The sawblade Dagger wore in his back roared to life, catching the grasshopper by surprise and severely gashing his front leg.  Kickback leapt back, tumbling to the ground in robot-mode, cradling his damaged arm.  "Okay, okay, you win."

       The warrior helped him to his feet, then looked at the fresh smear of energon along his hand.  "You're leaking pretty badly.  Come on."  Then, optics sparkling a grin, he added, "Sway's next match isn't for another twenty minutes, I'd say.  Plenty of time for you to get repaired in time to watch…"

       "Don't you lot have anything better to do than gossip about _me_?"

       "We're Insecticons; we'll gossip about _anyone_.  You just happen to be an easy target."

       Still bickering, Kickback allowed himself to be led from the tournament area.  The little outdoor competition was useful training for two very different classes of Insecticons: In the actual tournament, the warriors honed their combat skills.  And on the fringes, the medics and mechanics could practice their craft on the warriors.  Kickback was pleased with the system, even if Shrapnel thought it a bit silly.  At least Bombshell understood, for his own reasons – it kept the Insecticons occupied.  Bored Insecticons tended to cause trouble.

       Most of the techs were busy to one degree or another, mostly on minor things, though there were a few unoccupied ones.  "All right, who's next?"

       Kickback looked around for the source of the softly sibilant voice, tracing it to a deep green grasshopper with copper highlights.  "That would be…  _You!?_"

       The medic recoiled slightly at the violence of the statement.  "Ah…"

       "You!  You're…  You're _Cutter_!"

       "A bit of an unfortunate name, I'll grant, given my function…"

       "_Bombshell!_  I'll smelt him for this!"  Kickback shifted to grasshopper-mode and took off, despite Dagger's protests, back towards the Hive.

* * *

       "Where's Barrage?"

       Ransack shrugged.  "Patrol.  Patrollin' for _what_, I couldn't tell you."  The warrior stretched languidly in the sun, enjoying the warmth on his dark armour.  "Think Barrage has a thing for Venom?"

       "No, I do not.  Barrage just likes to be told what to do.  And you have far too much time on your hands if you're trying to find relationships where there aren't any… especially in the context of our _esteemed_ leader."

       The warrior snickered at the emphasis.  "Nah, too much time on your hands is going on patrol.  Or doing whatever it is Venom's doing wherever he is.  Never met a bigger waste of energy than that loopy cicada, I tell you…"

       "Speaking of energy, how is your recharger working?"

       Ransack rolled to his feet, taking up his concussion-blaster from where it clipped to his leg.  He fired three quick shots at a tree across the clearing, then looked over at Chopshop.  "Works fine.  Venom was good for _one_ thing, at least; instead 'a hoarding our ammo, we can recharge our weapons with our own power."  He reattached the blaster and sat down again.  "Wish _he_ didn't think of it first, though.  Just gives 'im something to be smug about."

       "Somehow, I don't think he cares."  Chopshop sat on a wide, flat rock nearby and pulled his sidearm out of subspace to inspect it.  He preferred hand-weapons, but understood the advantages of ranged attack.  "He seemed more exasperated about it, like it was an obvious thing to do."

       "Well, excuse us for being poor, stupid Insecticons, I'm sure."  After a minute, Ransack asked, "How come Bombshell didn't think of it?  _He_ was a Decepticon too, at least."

       The beetle shrugged.  "Bombshell, Shrapnel, and Kickback have subspace connections, like I do.  Most Insecticons don't have them because we can't duplicate the technology yet and have to get it off the Decepticons.  Also, most Insecticons use hand-weapons, not guns."

       "So it didn't occur to anyone to give us non-subspace-equipped bugs some kind of charger.  We were designed by idiots."

       "I'm afraid so."

* * *

       Bombshell looked up from his work long enough to establish the identity of who just came through his door.  "Hello, Kickback."

       "Talk fast, weevil."

       The aforementioned weevil continued to sort through the junk on his desk.  "What now?"

       Before Bombshell could react, he found himself pulled from his chair, lifted to Kickback's eye level, and roughly shaken.  "Cutter.  I just ran into him, and _you're_ going to tell me why."

       "Put me down!  It wasn't my fault!" yelled Bombshell.  "I fully intended to smelt the 'Cutter' body after I transferred you to your current one, but one of my technicians thought it was sitting out with the intent to be sparked.  By the time I found out about the mistake, he was already up and walking around.  What did you _want_ me to do – blast him?"

       Kickback put him down.  "Then Coronapis should have known.  She saw me as Cutter."

       "She didn't make the connection."  Bombshell inspected his arms, grumpily running his fingers over his shoulders where Kickback's talons scratched him.  "And before you ask, yes, I've already psych-typed him.  He's not your double or your opposite or your arch-nemesis or anything that silly.  He's just Cutter.  Now sit down so I can tend your arm.  You're dripping all over my floor."

       The grasshopper sat and shifted his one limb to two so Bombshell could more easily reach the damaged area.  Bombshell took a few items from his desk and settled in to repair his friend.  After a minute, Kickback said, "Are you _sure_ he's 'just Cutter'?  That shell was _mine_ for a time.  Could there be a… a left-over energy residue or something?"

       "Don't be strange.  The only incongruity is that the 'Cutter' shell was designed for combat, so he'll be the toughest medic on the field."  Bombshell fixed the hole in Kickback's fuel line, and started work on his wiring.  "At most, he'll have some of your fighting skills; you know how these coleop bodies hold on to reflexes."

       Shifting his gaze from his arm to Bombshell, Kickback asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

       "Because I knew you'd act like a twit about it," retorted Bombshell.  "I already talked to Coronapis; if she's told Shrapnel, I don't know about it.  Sway doesn't know, either.  That should be it for anyone who would recognise him, except for Venom's crew…  Oh, rivets!"

       "What?"

       Ignoring his patient, Bombshell crossed to the door, stepped out, and shouted, _"SKITTER!"_

       Curious as to his friend's behaviour, Kickback was surprised when a small Insecticon appeared at the door.  "Yes, O Loud-and-Grumpy One?"

       "I want my sander back."

       "And _I_ didn't take it."  Skitter slipped past Bombshell before he could protest, and within seconds lifted a small tool from his desk.  "I picked it up when I was in here last, but you made me leave in too much of a hurry to put it back exactly."  She grinned up at him.  "Still, it's kind of flattering that when you find something missing, you think of me."

       Bombshell considered yelling, then decided it wouldn't help, and instead covered his face with his hand.  "Oh, go away…  No, give me that first, _then_ go away."  Skitter pouted, handed the sander over, and flounced off.  With a sigh, Bombshell returned to his work on Kickback's arm.

       Kickback watched the scene with a bemused expression.  "You two have quite the act going.  Who was that?"

       "Skitter."  Bombshell said the name as if it was a curse.  "One of my techs.  I think she's trying to get me to short-circuit, but I'm not sure yet."

       "Cute.  My people just try to kill me for fun."

       When he finished sanding down the weld, Bombshell stood back.  "There.  See if that works."

       Kickback shifted his arm a few times, then let it settle into robot-mode.  "Seems to."

       "Good.  Check in with the repair bay sometime for the rest of your injuries, but at least you're no longer dripping."

       "Thanks.  Don't think this lets you off the hook, though."

       "Give it a rest," Bombshell said.  "It isn't my fault he's around.  Besides, Cutter's no threat to you."

       "I'll be the judge of that."

* * *

       Shrapnel paused, listening to an internal transmission.  After a moment, he said, "We should start back, back."

       It was the tone that caught Coronapis' attention.  "What's happened?"

       "That was Bombshell.  He's promising a crisis of epic proportions if we don't talk some sense into Kickback, kickback."

       "Cutter?"  At Shrapnel's nod, Coronapis sighed.  "I should never have sparked that form."

       "It's too late now, so don't worry about him, about him."  Shrapnel shifted to insect-mode and took to the air, Coronapis following.  "Why us?  Why won't Kickback listen to Bombshell, bombshell?"

       "He's still angry with him over the way Bombshell decided to deal with Venom last month," said Coronapis.  "Kickback _did_ take the worst of that battle.  It's sad, really…  Bombshell is the one who could help Kickback the most, but Kickback won't let him.  Sway can only do so much; while she _is_ an excellent warrior, she's no psychologist."

       Shrapnel made a razzing noise.  "Bombshell isn't used to using his psychological training to _help_ people, and Kickback knows it, knows it."

* * *

       "Frankly, I'm not sure why you're all hung-up about all this," said Sway once Kickback finished explaining the situation to her.  "So you, hmm, wore the body for a while.  So, hmm, what?  He's not you."

       "That's not the point!"

       Sway settled back against a silver-blue tree, folding her arms across her chest, the noise from the tournament still audible at this distance.  She was a bit scratched up from a few earlier matches, and was somewhat annoyed at having her sport interrupted for something she saw as a silly matter.  "What _is_ the point then, hmm?"

       "Sway, don't be difficult."

       "I'm not the one with a vendetta against someone merely because he's alive, hmm?"

       The grasshopper turned away, but it was only to kick at a small stone.  "I…  I don't know how to explain it.  Bombshell says Cutter isn't me, and I suppose he knows what he's talking about, but what if he's wrong?  Coleop shells hold on to instincts and automatic reactions…"

       He paused, and Sway added, "And memories, hmm?  You're afraid he _remembers_ being you."

       "Have you been hanging around Bombshell?"

       Sway snorted.  "You'd blame Bombshell for the rain if you could get away with it.  Mm, no, I just know you."

       Kickback clasped his hands behind his back, looking up at the sky.  "Though if Cutter _does_ have my memories, maybe Bombshell will bother _him_ instead of me…"

       "Oh, give up.  You, hmm, like arguing with him and you know it," Sway told him.  "Besides, he hasn't tried to analyse you for months."  Then, after a minute, "The, hmm, only one who has even the slightest interest in invading your paranoid privacy is me… for an, mm, entirely different reason."

       "I know, baby.  Give me time."

       "I am, hmm, _not_ a patient being, Kickback."  Quietly, she stepped up behind him and ran her claws along his side.  "But for you, I'll, hmm, attempt it."  Then the sound of transformation, the whirring of wings, and she was gone.

       Kickback looked over his shoulder and smiled faintly at the empty clearing.  "I know.  I'll make it worth the wait, Sway.  I promise."

* * *

       At the noise, Chopshop looked up.  It wasn't something he wanted to hear; the sound of some heavy body being dragged along.  Which meant that Barrage had got himself torn up by a morphobot or some coleop, and it would be up to Chopshop to put the fool back together again.  It annoyed him – he wasn't _supposed_ to be a mechanic, but neither Barrage or Ransack seemed inclined to repair anything, and Venom would only lower himself to help out if termination was imminent.

       To the beetle's surprise, it wasn't Barrage returning from his pointless patrol, but Venom, covered in dirt, and pulling a very large… _something_ along behind him.  However, it was the locust who spoke first:  "Well, well, look who it isn't," Ransack purred insincerely.  "Venom, looking as if he's seen better days… _and_ bringing food!  Astounding."

       "Hands off, Ransack," Venom snarled, still dragging the large, copper shape behind him.  "I have plans for this creature."

       Chopshop looked over the insect with some apprehension.  The creature was at least the size of Ransack, and covered in spines and thick armour.  "What is the, ah, state of the creature?"

       "Unconscious… and she'll stay that way until I choose for her to awaken," said Venom.  It had taken him a while to concoct the proper poison, but he was certain of its effectiveness.

       "Uh-huh, and what are you going to _do_ with it?" asked Ransack.

       The cicada knelt by the insect, lifting its head so the sightless eyes could stare at Ransack.  "She's from a parasite species of ant.  She allows herself to be captured by an enemy species, then kills their queen and takes her place.  Her captors care for her young as if they were of their queen, and eventually die out.  I found it… inspiring."

       The locust was singularly uninspired.  "Coronapis is a termite-type thing.  The Insecticons are going to very easily realise that your pet isn't their Queen."

       "And if Coronapis is dead, then what?" asked Chopshop.  "That… creature can't create viable minds."

       "Don't be a fool.  Queen Coronapis has a mobile form now, yes?" asked Venom.  Chopshop nodded; he was the one who did most of the spying, and was the one who passed that bit of information to Venom.  "A mobile, _powerless_ form.  Which means her power stems from her chamber.  Once she's out of the way, I can see about getting the chamber to work for other people."

       _To be continued…_


	2. What The Mind Forgets

**What The Mind Forgets**

       Four of us wait for the fifth to return.  I settle in to watch my fellow Sabocons.  Rebound, as always, has some new invention open before him, wires and stray bits spilling out of its casing.  Tumult paces, sits down for a few seconds, then gets up again.  He hates to wait.  Kickback is Tumult's opposite, standing silently, one foot on the arm of a chair, arms folded and resting on his knee.  He takes in everything at once, or seems to.  He might just be watching Rebound.

_       Rebound looks up from his eternal tinkering as Shrapnel enters the main room.  "Who hired us this time?  Megatron again?"_

       "No, one of the Monitors, a fellow called Seaquake, quake," replies Shrapnel, skim-reading the message on the compad.  "There are Autobots in his Sector, and he wants us to find them, find them."

_       Kickback nods slightly.  "Search, but not destroy?"_

_       "We'll be paid more if we destroy, destroy."_

_       Tumult's round form bounces in his excitement.  "I'm for 'destroy'!"_

_       "Not until we know what we're up against," I say, suddenly feeling that something else is happening, something important…_

_       … Wait, this isn't a memory…_

       Bombshell snapped back to full awareness, and realised he was looking at three metal rings that dangled from the cannon-turret mounted on his head.  He shouted before he even saw who was in the room: _"SKITTER!"_

       The tech was standing in front and slightly to one side of him, about ten metres away.  She had another metal ring ready to toss, but refrained.  "I tried to get your attention, but you wouldn't snap out of it.  I had to keep myself occupied _somehow_."

       "I _might_ have been busy," muttered Bombshell, taking the rings from his head.

       "Might have been, but you were just playing with your memory-box again," Skitter teased.  The device actually had a proper, scientific name, but no one used it.  "You don't see _me_ worried about my former life… though it's a good guess it wasn't much more than digging and eating.  What are you looking for in all that, anyway?"

       "Venom."

       Skitter stopped twirling the circlet in her hands, instead placing her hands on her hips.  "I think you're obsessive, Bombshell, you know that?"

       "I," said Bombshell, "am seeking information on a potentially dangerous enemy."

       "Who is out in the forests somewhere with his little goon-squad.  There's not a lot they can do."

       "'Not a lot'.  Not 'nothing'.  If there's any possible way he can strike back, he'll find it, and I want to know what his most likely attack would be."

       The ant leaned past him to collect her rings, storing them on one of the insect legs protruding from her shoulder.  "I don't get why your memory-box is so important.  You want to find stuff on Venom, check Cybertron's archives."

       "The archives only say so much; technical information, résumés, records…  Personal experience is better, especially from a psychological viewpoint."  Bombshell thought about that for a minute.  "Though he might have old contacts still living up there… and maybe the computer at the Sabocon Base computer still works…  I'll have to check that later."

       He made to plug himself back into the computer, but Skitter snatched the wires away from him.  "Venom is hoping you'll go nuts looking for him, and once you've burned your silly self out, he'll strike.  C'mon, let's go snack, then you can help me with my project.  I hit a snag and decided after an hour of staring at it that I should look for assistance."

       Bombshell didn't bother to ask _which_ project – Skitter always had at least six running.  It also didn't occur to him to tell her to ask for help from someone else.  "Oh, no, you're _not_ pulling me off-track again."  Bombshell tried to grab the wires back, but missed.

       "I'll carry you if you don't come quietly."

       "I'm bigger than you are."

       Skitter grinned and shifted to her insect-mode.  "Do you have any idea what the strength of a giant cyborg ant is?"

* * *

       When Barrage finally returned to the camp, he wasn't quite as damaged as Chopshop feared he would be.  The scarab was limping ( though he didn't seem to notice ) and had assorted gashes and some crushing damage to his exoskeleton.  Chopshop stood, folding his arms.  "You were caught by surprise by a morphobot."

       "Not by the first one," said Barrage, sitting in his usual place, stretching his damaged leg in front of himself.  "Two teamed up.  I don't think they're sentient, but they _are_ intelligent."

       _Which is more than I can say for you sometimes,_ Chopshop added to himself.  "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?  What were you _thinking_?"

       "He isn't an Insecticon."

       Chopshop was about to complain that the answer didn't make any sense, then realised that in Barrage's usual, literal way, it did.  And since the scarab was being unusually talkative, Chopshop decided to push the point.  "Who isn't?"

       "Venom."

       Which was true.  Venom had a Decepticon mind that was transferred into an Insecticon body.  But that was a generally-known fact.  "So?"

       The warrior didn't answer, lost again to his own thoughts.  Chopshop wasn't sure if Barrage was stupid, or if he was actually intelligent and just thought slowly.  Every time he made up his mind one way, Barrage would say something that made Chopshop change his opinion.  He wasn't sure quite what to make of the scarab's latest bit of dialogue.

       There was no drawing Barrage out when he was lost in himself.  Chopshop sat on the ground beside him and settled in to repair his leg.

* * *

       _Kickback looks back over his shoulder.  We can see the smoke rising from the factory from here.  He shakes his head.  "Well, that was certainly one of the less-subtle jobs we've done."_

_       The rest of us burst out laughing.  Not that the situation is funny.  What should have been some routine factory sabotage turned out to be a set-up, and we barely managed to escape.  We're laughing because we're alive._

_       Shrapnel regains control over his vocaliser first: "Megatron won't be happy.  This was supposed to be a stealth mission, mission."_

_       "We got it done, didn't we?" asks Tumult.  "And we took out a bunch 'o the enemy all by our little selves.  That oughtta be worth something."_

_       "We may even be allowed to keep our heads attached to our bodies," Rebound murmurs, sending us into fresh fits of giggles._

_       Leaning heavily on Rebound and Shrapnel, Kickback sobers.  "Really – What should we do?"_

_       The other Sabocons look to me.  Shrapnel is our leader, but if we're going to be facing down angry Megatron, I'm the one who's most likely to come up with the best way to deal with him.  I look at the smoke still spiralling into the sky, then back to the others.  "Let's go back to base for repairs.  Megatron won't come find us himself; he'll send someone.  We'll look that someone straight in the eye and tell him we got the job done.  If he complains, we add that there must be extreme holes in the intelligence network if the Decepticons didn't know the factory was a trap."_

_       We start back to our headquarters, walking.  After a while, Rebound asks, "What if Megatron does come himself?"_

_       "Then we run like maniacs."_

       Bombshell chuckled a bit as he drew back from the memory.  As it turned out, Megatron had sent Dirge, and the Sabocons had a great deal of fun with him… not that the feeling was mutual.

       "You sound happy.  Don't move."

        Skitter, again.  Against his better judgement, Bombshell obligingly held still.  There were a few unusual noises behind him, and after a minute Skitter said, "Okay, you can move now."

       Bombshell turned around.  Skitter was behind a small scaffold, holding a bucket of water.  After an inquisitive silence, she shrugged.  "I had everything set up so nice, but couldn't bear to ruin your mood.  Find what you were looking for?"

       "No."  He put the memory-box wires away, then set about helping Skitter dismantle the scaffold.  "What I need is a way to direct the memory retrieval.  Each time I plug in I get something completely random."

       "So you need a search engine for your brain," agreed Skitter.  "You'd need a fairly high-level phase detector – Class Eight or Nine at least – or it either won't work or it'll fry your circuits and not work.  Do we even _have_ anything that delicate?"

       "Unfortunately not."

       She flopped down into his chair, hooking a leg over one side, setting her elbow on the other, and resting her chin in her hand.  "And it will take a _lot_ of convincing to get a toy _that_ snappy away from the Decepticons.  Can we build something like one?"

       "Maybe.  It should be easy enough to get the specs out of Cybertron's archives," agreed Bombshell.

       Skitter looked disbelieving.  "Since when do _you_ use blueprints for _anything_?"

       "When it's _my_ mind I'm going to be probing," said Bombshell.  "Now get out of my chair."

* * *

       "Ransack!  Get down here!"

       The locust peered down from his perch in the tree.  "So's you can drain my life-force into your pet?  Make me."  Venom had spent the last two days with his hands buried in the unconscious form of the large copper ant he had dragged into camp.  Ransack didn't claim he had the faintest idea what alterations his leader made to the creature, but he did know that Venom intended to spark it.  He also knew that Venom would give a lot to have him, Ransack, terminated.  He was the only one who rebelled openly, after all…

       "Ransack…" Venom began warningly, signalling Barrage.

       The bronze form shifted to robot-mode, still sitting casually in the tree.  And, just as casually, his concussion-blaster rested in his hands.  "Come'n get me… 'cept I ain't much good to you damaged.  You want your pet sparked, Venom, why don't _you_ do it?  Or get Barrage to do it; I bet he would if you asked nice."

       Barrage set his jaw and drew a bead on Ransack with his sonic rifle… but his attention _did_ flick for an instant to Venom.  Venom seethed quietly, and Chopshop realised he had until the metaphoric 'ten' before his leader decided to give in to his rage anyway.  "I could go to the Hive and bring a victim for your pet," he said.  "Then none of us will be weakened, or worse.  It might take a few days, however…"

       The fury drained from Venom – visibly, if one was looking for it.  "Very well, Chopshop.  Go."

       The stag beetle saluted, shifted, and took off through the forest, glad to be away from the others, and wondered vaguely why Venom didn't think of the solution himself.  The whole situation made him uncomfortable; Chopshop strongly suspected he was the only sane one of the four.  Still, he felt a kinship with Ransack and Barrage, and hoped the two wouldn't kill each other before he got back.  If one decided to snap and kill Venom, on the other hand…

       He wondered why he himself never terminated Venom.  Certainly the cicada was wary, but he was also awkward, weak, and slow.  Barrage wasn't _always_ guarding him, and Chopshop was sure that if he couldn't talk Barrage out of killing _him_ afterwards, he could at least escape from the scarab.  Still, every time the opportunity presented itself, Chopshop just… let it pass.

       And now Venom had his new pet; the creature he claimed would complete his revenge on the Insecticons, whatever _that_ meant.  Chopshop understood perfectly well why Shrapnel and the others didn't want to serve Venom, but he couldn't understand why Venom was so determined to lead the Insecticons when he could have easily stayed on Cybertron and found something to do up there… something more glamorous and important than leading a subgroup that the Decepticons didn't even _like_…

       He could just leave.  But Venom had… _holds_ on him, so Chopshop's mind helpfully informed him whenever he tried to think about it.  The stag beetle just had no idea what those holds _were_.

       Besides, he didn't have anywhere else to go.

* * *

       "Cutter!  Wait up a minute!"

       The medic turned at the hail, and watched the dragonfly land on the silver grass outside the Hive.  "Hello, Sway."

       "Hmm, how did you know my name is 'Sway'?"

       Cutter looked puzzled for a second.  "I…  It just _had_ to be.  I've never seen you before, but I… I _know_ you, a little."

       "Hrmm, well that answers my first question," muttered Sway.  "You know who _you_ are, I assume, hmm?"

       Had he eyes instead of an optic visor, Cutter would have rolled them.  "I know, I know – Kickback's 'clone', even though I'm not.  Bombshell already explained everything."

       Sway chuckled.  "Kickback was worried that you might, hrmm, have some of his memories, but he refuses to talk to you himself, and Bombshell hasn't decided that it's possible yet.  It seems you do.  Hmm, anything else you shouldn't know, names you remember before they're said?"  It might not have been the best approach, but 'subtle' and 'tactful' were not words commonly associated with Sway.

       The grasshopper considered that.  "It's more feelings than proper memories, emotions and… tactile memories?  Remembering the feel of things.  I remembered Bombshell.  I fear I wasn't very cooperative with him because of that; something inside me kept telling me not to trust him.  And there's someone else I haven't run into yet, and I think I'm glad of that."  He paused, then looked at Sway.  "I don't know his name.  I just have this mental image of a large, dark shape and the feel of his claws tearing into my chest…"

       "That would be Ransack.  The one who thought he killed Kickback," Sway snarled.  "Kickback was wearing your form at the time, and, hrmm, got to watch as Ransack tore his real body apart."

       "That would explain why my memories of him are so… vivid, then," said Cutter, sagging back against the wall of the Hive, crossing his hands protectively over his chest.  "The emotions Kickback felt at the time were so strong…"  The grasshopper sighed.  "He's going to hate this, isn't he?"

       "I'll tell him to leave you alone."  Sway paused and smirked.  "Hmm, though I doubt I'll be able to stop Bombshell.  He'll, hmm, find out, and he'll use you as a project to study memory retention in coleop shells.  Good-bye."  She took to the air.

       Cutter waved.  "Thank you for the warning."

* * *

       It occurred to Chopshop that he was days away from Venom.  He could betray him, easily; just warn the Insecticons, gather a small strike-force…

       … Except that he couldn't do it.  He _couldn't_.  He _belonged_ to Venom, though he couldn't remember why…

       There was a quick clinking sound emanating from a nearby clearing, so he crept closer, and realised he was in luck.  One of the Insecticon warriors was there, dancing a _kata_ alone, occasionally whirling to slice a tree with her blades.  Chopshop recognised this one; a butterfly named Jade Fan who insisted she be called _the_ Jade Fan, as if her name was a title.  It suited her; the green blades of her wings _did_ look like fans when she held them.

       Chopshop wasn't an honourable creature.  He never had been.  If the odds were against him, he would cheat.  He was probably as fast as the Jade Fan, and stronger, but she was a much more skilled fighter, and she would be trying to kill him.

       Two shots stunned her long enough for Chopshop to make a few alterations to ensure she'd stay in stasis.

* * *

       _Kickback sits, head cocked to one side, as if listening.  In a way, he is; a wire trails from his gauntlet, jacked into our computer.  Suddenly he unplugs himself, and looks over at me.  "We've just received a very strange offer."_

_       "Explain."_

_       "This prospective client wants to hire us to sabotage a starship."_

_       There aren't that many starships left on Cybertron.  The war has drained our resources too deeply for them.  Still…  "That sounds like an ordinary job for us."_

_       He shakes his head.  "Oh, the job certainly sounds ordinary, Bombshell…"  Kickback pauses just long enough that I'm about to ask again before he says, "The ship they want us to sabotage is Megatron's."_

_       It takes a minute for that to sink in.  "Megatron's," I repeat stupidly, then get up to pace the room.  "Who is the client?  Someone who just wants him out of the way or an Autobot?"_

_       "Like I could tell from an audio-only communication," snaps Kickback.  "My guess would be an Autobot.  Intelligence says they have a ship too, and intend to scout more energy with it.  A Decepticon wouldn't be able to pay us, not with this power shortage."_

_       He leans back against the console and taps his fingers against the insignia on his chest.  "The question, I fear, is just how loyal are we to the Decepticons?"_

_       "The question, Kickback, is which side do we support to ensure our continued survival?"  I stop, staring at the wall.  "We need to decide which faction will find a new energy source first, and stay on their good side…  By helping the Autobots or by warning the Decepticons, in this case."_

_       "Or we can escape this dying planet and strike out on our own."_

_       "We don't have a ship, Kickback.  Even if we did, we couldn't power it."_

_       "Try this: We sneak aboard the Decepticon ship.  If the ship passes a likely planet, we borrow one of the escape pods."  Kickback grins.  "That's at least one advantage to being small…"_

       He shook his head to clear it, and was startled by a sudden clatter behind him.  He turned to find Skitter with a pile of junk at her feet and a guilty expression on her face.  Bombshell folded his arms.  "Well?"

       The ant pouted.  "I was _going_ to pile stuff around your chair like a cocoon, but you came out of it before I could even begin!  I was running late this morning."

       "Score one for the weevil, then," said Bombshell.  Sometimes his timer would go off and pull him back to awareness, and sometimes it would happen randomly.  This time was random, but he didn't bother to say that.  "What do you want?"

       She thought that over.  "I came in here to pull a prank on you, but you interrupted me, so I guess I've got no reason to be in here now."

       "What, no obviously fake reason like 'I forgot my left-handed wrench'?  Shrapnel will be disappointed I won't have any new Skitter Excuses for him."  Bombshell sighed.  "How did you get in here, anyway?  I locked that door."

       Skitter looked innocent.  "You _did_?"

* * *

       "I, hmm, talked to Cutter yesterday."

       Surprised, Kickback flipped into robot-mode, dropping the branch he was chewing on.  "What?  Why?"

       Sway shifted as well, and stifled the urge to shake him.  _That's the problem with the smart ones, like him and Bombshell,_ she decided.  _They come up with their ideas and theories and it never occurs to them that they might be wrong.  And, of course, they can't possibly ask Cutter what he thinks of all this._  Instead she said, "Hrmm, because no one else will."  She settled a hand on Kickback's arm.  "He remembers, a little."

       "_What!?_  I'll…"  Kickback attempted to start away, but Sway yanked him back.

       "Hrmm, leave him alone, Kickback."

       "I was _going_ to, but… but he… he _remembers_!  Sway…"

       Sway sighed and ran her fingers along Kickback's gauntlet.  "What are you afraid of?  It sounds like he's only retained, hmm, emotional impressions.  All he got from you was a mistrust of Bombshell and a fear of, hrmm, Ransack."

       "And you."  Kickback looked down, trailing the front edge of his foot through the gray sand.  "I… thought about you a lot, during that time…"

       "Kickback," said the dragonfly firmly, "I'm not going to run away with Cutter.  I said I'd wait for you and I, hmm, will."

       If Kickback had an answer to that, it was interrupted by Dagger's arrival, the assassin bug skidding to a stop in a cloud of sand.  "Kickback, Jade's missing."

       "The Jade Fan?" asked the grasshopper.  "She vanishes every so often.  She likes to be alone."

       "I know that, but she's been gone for five days, and no one can contact her.  Her radio doesn't even activate, and I think she would have told someone if she was going to leave permanently," said Dagger.  While social creatures as a rule, a few Insecticons had split from the Hive to make their own ways on Coleop or Cybertron.

       Sway snorted.  "I know her.  She, hmm, claims to hate people, but she'd never leave.  She, hrmm, wants an audience."

       It was an uncharitable view, but one Kickback knew was accurate.  "Does anyone have any idea of where she went?  Who saw her last?"

       Dagger considered that.  "Devourer… no, probably one of the techs.  Dev beat Jade in a fight, so she went into one of her snits.  But she must have stopped in at the repair bay first – she was torn up pretty bad."

       "Hmm, I'm not surprised.  Those two can't stand each other…  Mm, come to think of it, I don't know of anyone who _likes_ the Jade Fan," Sway amended.  "Of course, she might be doing this just to see if we get, hrmm, worked up about it…"

       "Not her style.  If she wants attention, she's going to make sure she's there to bask in it."  Kickback hopped into the air, hovering.  "I'm going to ask around at the repair bay, in case they know anything."

* * *

       _Light and voices…  There are things I know, and I don't question them.  Instead, I stand – a complicated series of twists – and find myself in a large room with five others.  Four are like me and one is not.  Already I am wary of the outsider._

_       He says: "My name is Venom.  Declare yourselves."_

_       One of mine says: "I am Shrapnel, master of electronic warfare, warfare."_

_       Another: "I am Rebound, a saboteur."_

_       Another: "Kickback.  Espionage."_

_       Me: "I am Bombshell.  My function is psychological warfare."_

_       And: "I'm Tumult.  I'm also bored.  When do we get to do something?"_

_       "Soon," says Venom.  "You are my Sabocons, and…"_

_       Shrapnel cocks his head to the side.  "'Yours', yours?  You created us, created us?"_

_       "Your shells were given to me on the authority of Commander Megatron," Venom informs us patiently.  "I gave you life by bringing you here."_

_       Kickback's mouth twists slowly into a smirk.  "Any drone could have done the same."_

_       Venom is quickly losing control of the situation, but it doesn't show on his face.  "You are programmed with skills and training, but you haven't any experience yet.  First I will teach you, and once you are ready, I will take you to Megatron for his approval."_

_       As one, we Sabocons all step back and exchange glances.  Something in us rebels at the thought of belonging to anyone.  Suddenly Shrapnel laughs.  "Maybe we'll go find Megatron ourselves, selves."  He shifts to his other form and the rest of us follow suit, flying past Venom and into the corridor, laughing with the sheer joy of new existence.  Venom calls after us to come back, but we don't listen._

       Some time later, Bombshell pulled himself back to awareness… an awareness that included the quiet sounds of someone absorbed in their work.  He peered over his desk to find Skitter kneeling in the floor, messing with one of his inventions.  "Hey, stop that."

       "Like _you_ ever got this thing to work," she retorted.  "You're lucky I got interested in it – I was going to paint everything on your desk purple.  You were out of it for a long time.  The search-thingy work?"

       There _was_ a can of purple paint sitting by the door.  Bombshell chose to ignore it.  "Quite well.  I know why Venom thinks he owns us – Megatron gave him our programmed shells, and Venom took us to Vector Sigma to be sparked."

       "Yuck.  How long before you guys rebelled?"

       "About a minute," admitted Bombshell.  "We decided we didn't want to be owned, and ran away.  We were lost in Cybertron for days before we made it to the surface.  After that, we found the main Decepticon base and broke in, just to show off."  He sighed.  "We were caught, of course, but Megatron was in a good mood and thought the attempt was cute – not that he said it that way.  We were granted autonomy, more or less, much to Venom's displeasure.  He still acted as our liaison, though he'd still try to convince us to let him lead every so often."

       Skitter giggled.  "Stories like that make me proud to be an Insecticon – heir to the Sabocon tradition of mischief, non-compliance, and general troublemaking."

* * *

       The blue creature on the table had far too many legs for Kickback's liking.  It was also very thoroughly dead, its underbelly slit from head to tail, and assorted parts removed and stored on a nearby shelf.  One of the techs was up to her elbows in the centipede, with every sign of enjoyment.  Kickback knocked twice on the doorframe to get her attention.  "Hey.  I'm told you were the one who repaired the Jade Fan five days ago."

       "Yep," agreed Frostbite without looking up.  After a minute, the tool in her hand stopped humming, and she straightened, dusting metal powder from her hands.  "Why?"

       "She's gone missing," said Kickback.  "Did she say anything to you about where she intended to go?"

       The wasp shook her head.  "No.  She didn't say anything at all."  Which was perfectly in keeping with the Jade Fan's personality.  Then, "What do you think of this one?" Frostbite asked, tapping one of the centipede's inert legs.  "Lovely creature, isn't it?  It took three of our warriors to bring it down.  One of these would make an excellent hunter Insecticon, I'd think.  Want one?"

       "It might be a bit big," said Kickback.

* * *

       Chopshop set the Jade Fan on the ground before shifting back to robot-mode.  "I got one, Venom," he said, unnecessarily.  "She still functions; I disconnected her mind from her body, leaving only the connections required to keep her form alive."  He also made sure she would remain in stasis-mode, unaware.  Even Chopshop had limits.

       "Excellent work.  Bring her."

       With a stifled sigh, Chopshop slung the warrior over his shoulder and followed Venom into the cave.  The cicada waved him over.  "Set her next to my creation and stay.  I might still need your skills."

       He did, then stepped back.  Venom cracked the Jade Fan's exoskeleton open, exposing her circuitry.  "It occurs to me…  I may have use for more than this one's lifeforce…"

* * *

       The guided search device worked well, as long as there was anything to find.

       Huge sections of Bombshell's memory were missing entirely, in one part for a run of several centuries.  There was nothing to be done for it; it was a miracle that he and the others were alive at all after the crash on Earth four million years ago.  Still, he might be able to convince Shrapnel to come down for a few sessions to see if the missing sections could be filled in.  Kickback wouldn't do it.

       However, there was enough for a pattern to emerge: Where Venom the Decepticon was a patient, careful, sophisticated being, Venom the Insecticon was a monomaniacal lunatic.  Something had happened to him…  _In the last four million years,_ thought Bombshell, disgusted.  _That's not really helpful._

       An internal alarm went off, and Bombshell mentally detached himself from his memory-box.  It wasn't any sort of outside threat that set off the warning; more like an alarm clock telling him he'd been at it for two hours now.  He took a quick look around the room, and was almost disappointed that everything on his desk hadn't been turned upside down, or that he hadn't been tied to his chair, or something equally strange.  He found he rather missed the weirdness.

       Bombshell unplugged the wire from himself, and was rolling it up to put away when he noticed the note on his desk: _If you want to see your phase callipers ever again, leave fifty kilos of lithium-copper alloy in vent N-34 before second shift.  You cannot find me!  You cannot trace me! – Sincerely, Skitter._

       He managed to crumple the note before succumbing to a laughing fit.

* * *

       Chopshop came skidding out of the cave, on his back, and crashed to a stop at the base of a tree.  Ransack looked over from where he was chewing on a coleop leg.  "What did he do _now_?"

       "Tried to make his own Queen, I think… and she's not happy about it."

       "That's loopy.  Where's he store all the information she'd need to _be_ a Queen?" the locust demanded.  "And how's he expect to make new bodies for new people?  Even his pet can only transform because he took the Jade Fan's transform circuits."

       "It probably all hinges on taking over the Hive or something.  And I think we both know that Venom has no idea what he's doing," sighed Chopshop.

       Both Insecticons looked over at another shriek.  Ransack flipped into his robot-mode and unslung his concussion-blaster from his hip with every sign of boredom.  "I guess we gotta go to the rescue, hmm?"

       "That last scream sounded like Barrage.  I'd like to get _him_ out, at least," said Chopshop.  "Venom and his pet can work out their differences in any way they choose."

       If Ransack noticed that Chopshop let him go first, the warrior didn't care.  He quickly took in the scene: Barrage was a heap by the wall, not quite unconscious, while Venom lay collapsed at the feet of his pet… or what had been his pet.  Not that it mattered.

       Not that Ransack got a second shot.

       The first blast caught the copper Insecticon in the back, sending her sprawling forwards over Venom.  She managed to roll to her feet and fire off a few shots at Ransack with Barrage's sonic rifle.  The shots were too wild to actually hit, but the shockwaves were enough to throw Ransack off-balance.  The ant tried to make a break for it then, but Ransack lashed out with a foot and managed to bring his opponent to the ground.

       To his surprise, Venom's pet was as strong as he was, and managed to tumble him onto his back and gain the upper hand.  She drew a sword from her strange 'tail' before Ransack recovered from his mistake and knocked it from her grasp.  Automatically, she reached after her weapon, but a bronze fist caught her in the face and sent her to the ground.

       Ransack grabbed the copper Insecticon by her antennae and pulled her to her knees.  She caught the hand holding her, and gave the metal a sharp twist, leaving the locust's left hand and gauntlet a crumpled mess.  One of her feet stuck out, kicking the almost-forgotten concussion-blaster from Ransack's other hand.  Instead of worrying about the weapon, Ransack struck back, claws tearing ugly but non-serious gashes in the ant's chest-plating.

       Barrage was still struggling to remain conscious, but Venom had regained his feet and his attitude: "Ransack!  I want her undamaged!"

       "Go suck nectar, you noisemaker!  I… _unngh!_"  A fist to the jaw knocked the locust back.  Before he could recover his footing, or even move, the copper Insecticon had snatched up her sword and driven it through his chest, pinning him to the ground.  When no one moved to stop her, she withdrew the blade and vanished into the forest.

       "Don't just stand there, you fools – follow her!"

       The aforementioned 'fools' ignored Venom; Barrage had finally slipped into stasis, while Chopshop was crouched over Ransack, trying to determine if the locust was even alive.  Venom tried again to get their attention: "Well?"

       "She's your pet; _you_ chase her," snapped Chopshop without looking up from his work.  The cicada simply turned on his heel and stalked back to the cavern to deal with his own damages.

       The sword had missed Ransack's main fuel line, but had damaged enough of his internal systems to knock him into stasis.  Working quickly, Chopshop found the seals on the warrior's outer plating, removing it to expose the chassis underneath.  Ransack was still leaking energon from his mangled hand, so Chopshop sealed off the flow to his arm before settling in to work on his other systems.  Barrage might have internal rupturing for all the beetle knew, but if he didn't, Chopshop didn't want to waste time on him when he knew Ransack was dying.

       Once Chopshop decided that he'd stabilised Ransack, he went back to work on Barrage, and was pleased to find that the scarab's internal repair system had already dealt with the worst of it.  Barrage would be in stasis for a while longer, and he'd be starving when he awoke, but he would survive.  Chopshop turned back to Ransack…

       … And found the warrior had recovered his senses, sitting up, staring out into the forest and shaking his head.  Chopshop folded his arms in exasperation.  "You shouldn't be up yet, you dolt.  I haven't finished repairing you."

       Ransack wasn't paying him any attention, his visor lit in what would have been a wide, triumphant grin.

       _To be continued…_


	3. Haunting My Own Doppelganger

**Haunting My Own Doppelganger**

          He thought he was moving quietly, but the Hive's main lab was far too cluttered for that.  Kickback didn't see anyone, but when he knocked over a chair, a voice piped, "Who's that?"

          He recognised the voice, and looked for its source.  "It's me – Kickback.  Skitter?"

          "That's me."  A pile of papers shook, scattered, and revealed the small, brown Insecticon.  "Whatcha looking for, Kickback?"

          "Just looking for information," said the grasshopper.  "I want to know who fixed up the form that became Cutter, and brought it to Coronapis for sparking."

          Skitter picked up a datapad and keyed into it.  "Weaver.  And don't you do anything to her because of it."

          _Not Bombshell, then.  Astounding – he was telling the truth._  "I won't."

          He moved to leave, but Skitter stepped in front of him and folded her arms.  "Are you going to take it out on Bombshell?"

          "He didn't do it."  It was the weevil's kind of trick, though.

          "But you're still out to get him."  The tech scowled.  "Because you're silly.  Bombshell said so."

          Kickback, who had been considering just picking Skitter up and moving her aside, stopped and frowned.  "Who _else_ has Bombshell been gossiping about me with?"

          "Just me," said Skitter.  "Oh, come on – he's worried about you, but you won't talk to him, and he's gotta talk to _someone_…"

          In his function as a spy, Kickback was very good at summing people up, and now gave Skitter a careful look.  "Why you?"

          "Because I'm there."

          'Still, it's kind of flattering that when you find something missing, you think of me.'  How much work do you put into making sure it's you there?  He said, "I suppose that's not so bad, then.  What are you working on?"

          As Skitter turned away to pick up her latest project, Kickback snatched a few tools from her desk that he recognised as Bombshell's.  In all the clutter, she'd never miss them.

* * *

          He didn't know what a psychologist's office should look like, but Cutter was certain that _this_ wasn't it.  At the very least, one shouldn't enter to find their psychologist methodically cursing whilst removing plastic wrap from his desk.

          _Not that Bombshell is a psychologist, really,_ Cutter unhelpfully reminded himself.  _His function is psychological warfare.  He'll use anything I tell against me at the first opportunity…  Which is a very Kickback way of thinking.  I'm not Kickback.  I'm Cutter._  "Um, hello?"

          Without turning, Bombshell waved him in, then returned to unwrapping his desk.  "I'll be with you in a minute, Cutter.  If you can find the chair, you can have a seat."

          With some trepidation, the grasshopper looked around.  Everything seemed to be covered in plastic wrapping, but it was transparent, so the things underneath were identifiable.  He located the chair and used a claw to slit the plastic, then peeled the rest of it away.  There was a note on the seat, so Cutter picked it up.  "Bombshell…"

          Bombshell snatched the note away before Cutter could finish, but not before he saw the message: _Weevil 0, Ant 41.  Heeheeheeheehee!  This is what you get for standing me up on the lithium-copper! – You-Know-Who._  Cutter decided he really didn't want to know who would take the time to write out a giggle.  "Ah… about my appointment…"

          "You were late, for one," Bombshell irritably told the plastic wrap twined around his fingers.  "Rumour around the Hive has it that your shell hung on to some of Kickback's memories.  Unfortunately for me, Kickback wasn't terribly happy with me during the time he wore your form, which means I'm going to have a bother of a time trying to get anything from you."

          Cutter's visor flashed.  "I might have some of his memories and reflexes, but I'm not Kickback."

          The weevil nodded vaguely, pulling at another piece of plastic wrap.  While for once his motives were reasonably pure – Bombshell _was_ interested in the study of memory-retention in coleop shells – he still used his old tricks.  It was fortunate for him that Cutter _wasn't_ Kickback.  Kickback would have easily recognised the reverse psychology: _Kickback won't tell me anything, Cutter, but you're not Kickback… and to prove it, you'll do the opposite of what he would do…  Or what I say he would do._

          It wasn't particularly fair, but neither was Bombshell.

* * *

          "Hold still.  It's _your_ fault for taking on one of those blue centipedes, so you might as well cooperate."

          Barrage obligingly held still, either responding to the command, or, more likely, zoning out again.  Chopshop found it disconcerting; the gunner tended to move like an automaton, and when responding to the world, seeming as if he was reacting to something not-quite real…  _Except in combat,_ Chopshop added.  _Then he's sharp, rather than off in his own little world.  No wonder he's Venom's favourite – he's deadly in battle and obeys without question…_

          "He isn't an Insecticon," said Barrage, pulling Chopshop out of his reverie.

          "I know he isn't," said Chopshop.  So did everyone else – Venom was a Decepticon mind in an Insecticon body.  "Why is it important?"

          The gunner fell silent.  Chopshop rapped on the scarab's chest plating to get his attention.  "Barrage, what _is_ going on?" demanded the beetle.  "Venom vanishes for days at a time – where does he go?  What's he working on?"

          Barrage said nothing.  Chopshop hammered a few dents out of the scarab's armour before welding the plate back in place.  "That's the worst of it.  You can go, but no fighting any more centipedes."

          "Ants," said Barrage.  "Venom is working on ants."

* * *

          "Kickback, kickback!"

          If the pitch of his voice wasn't immediately recognisable, his stutter was.  Kickback turned and waited in the corridor for Shrapnel and Coronapis to catch up to him.  "How goes the search, search?"

          Kickback shrugged.  "We still haven't located the Jade Fan.  She may have left on her own.  She may have been eaten by a morphobot.  Either way, we won't be able to find her.  Still, she's one of ours, so I have a few searchers out."

          "Not much hope, then?"

          "No."  Coronapis looked so dejected that Kickback cringed internally.  They were pretty much opposites, he realised; Kickback was a warrior, Coronapis existed to give life.  Where she was open and giving, he kept tightly to himself.  And, most of all, she loved all of her people.  "I'm sorry, Coronapis; there's just not much we can do if she's dead or doesn't want to be found."

          Coronapis nodded.  "I understand."

* * *

          He was a hunter, and he finally had worthy prey.

          Ransack stretched his senses to their limits, searching for the trail of the copper Insecticon.  He wasn't sure what Venom had programmed her with, except for a mean-streak and combat skills at least equal to his own.  Still, she was new, inexperienced, and left a trail that a trained tracker could easily follow.  And he _had_ to follow.

          In theory, Chopshop should have gone with him; the beetle was clever, and perfectly silent when he chose to be, but Ransack felt he could do better alone…  _No, I lie.  I told them I could do better solo; I felt I had to do this alone.  Venom wasn't happy and Chopshop looked at me funny, but who cares what they think?  I'll bring her back, or…_

          The trail was hours old – Ransack had almost been killed by the copper Insecticon, and it took Chopshop that long to repair him.  Still, it was enough, and suddenly moot as the sounds of combat reached the locust's audio receptors.

          He silently ran to the site, but didn't bother to unhook his concussion-blaster from where it clipped to his leg when he arrived – it wouldn't have any effect on the morphobot.

          The locust had fought morphobots with only his claws before, but he didn't do it often.  Ransack enjoyed taking risks, but unarmed combat against the alien plants was generally considered a very stupid activity.  And while Ransack was many things – violent, hot-headed, impulsive – he wasn't stupid.

          It was currently a stand-off – that is, while the morphobot held her tightly in its tendrils, the copper Insecticon hadn't been eaten yet.  She had lost her sword ( Ransack could see where it lay on the ground, near a few severed tentacles, ) and her hands were bound, but her struggles still kept her from the mouth of the plant.

          Ransack dodged the plant's grasping tendrils, catching up the other warrior's sword, then turning and slashing at the morphobot.  It wasn't a weapon he was proficient with, but a few graceless strokes still managed to hack through the tentacle holding the copper Insecticon's hands.  Partially freed, she took her other sword from her tail, and slashed though her remaining bonds.

          She could have run then, but instead leapt back at the alien plant.  She and Ransack managed to cut off most of its limbs before she drove her sword into what passed as the organs of the thing.

          Battle over, running low on energy and splattered in morphobot fluids, she knelt, leaning heavily on her sword, and snarled.  "You can tell your master that I will not return to him."

          "You don't understand," said Ransack.  He stabbed her other sword into the ground, within her reach.  "I came to serve you."

* * *

          Kickback was grinning.  The grasshopper had several degrees of smiles, calculated for various effects, but the one he wore now meant nothing but trouble.  Bombshell ignored it for as long as he could before looking over.  "What do you _want_, Kickback?"

          "You _wound_ me.  _I_ want nothing.  You, on the other hand, might want these."  Kickback reached into a small storage compartment in his leg and withdrew a handful of tools, which he set on the desk.

          "I've been looking for those.  Where did you find them?"

          The grasshopper sighed expansively, folding his arms and resting a hip against the desk.  "You know perfectly well who had them.  And…" – Kickback's smile brightened – "… I think you know why."

          Bombshell picked up the tools, stashing two in a compartment on himself and dropping the rest in a drawer.  "Skitter borrows my stuff.  She always returns it when I ask her to.  So what?"

          "'So what?' he says," mimicked Kickback, trying and failing to copy Bombshell's wheezing voice.  "'So what?'  For a psychologist, you sure are dumb."  Suddenly Kickback turned, leaning down across the desk so their noses almost touched.  "She's doing it to get your attention."

          He danced back before Bombshell could take a swing at him.  "And you know the _best_ part?" asked Kickback, safely out of reach.  "_You_ don't discourage it."

          "I do so."

          "Puh-_leeze_.  If you went about it any more half-heartedly, I'd have to come up with a new fraction."

          Bombshell turned back to his work.  "Why don't you go deal with your own relationship problems?"

          "Don't change the subject.  Besides, you got bigger problems than I do."

          "What?  You're actually _admitting_ you're in a relationship?"

          Kickback sighed.  "Everyone and his clone knows I'm with Sway, all right?"  He shook his head, the grin fading from his face.  "I'm not ready to bond again."

          "Bonding is secondary, you idiot!" Bombshell snapped.  "All Sway wants is _acknowledgement_."

          "But she knows…"

          The weevil made a noise of exasperation.  "Of _course_ she knows!  And she knows you know it.  That isn't the point."

          "And you're changing the subject!"

          "Indeed I am."  Bombshell settled back in his chair.  "Look, I'll admit it – Skitter and I flirt.  It's a game.  Nothing more."

          Kickback sighed, but nodded and turned to leave.  "I see."

          "Wait a second, Kickback; I have an assignment for you…"

          The grasshopper waited, and found a compad pushed into his hand.  "What's this for?"

          "Last I checked, you were our Official Insecticon Emissary Person, or whatever silly title you gave yourself," said Bombshell.  "I want you to go to Cybertron and transfer our old Sabocon files to the Hive computer."

          "What do you want those for?  They're four million years out of date."

          Bombshell shrugged.  "They might still be useful.  Besides, better we have them than someone else."

          "Our next shipment to Cybertron is in four days.  I'll go then," said Kickback, tucking the compad into a compartment in his leg.  At the door, he turned and grinned.  "Say 'hi' to Skitter for me."

          Bombshell threw a wrench at him, but the door had already closed.

* * *

          At first, Chopshop welcomed Venom's absences; it meant the cicada wasn't there, listening to their every word.  After a while, they worried him – Chopshop wasn't concerned for Venom's safety, but when he wasn't around, Chopshop couldn't keep track of him.  Last time, Venom brought back that giant, copper ant.  _This time, who knows what he'll be up to…_

          This time, Chopshop followed the cicada.  Venom didn't notice.  He might have been caught up entirely in his destination, though with his paranoia, it was more likely Chopshop's own skill that kept him from detection.

          "Come in, Chopshop.  You may as well help me get her on the table."

          _Or not,_ sighed the beetle.  _How does he do that?_  Chopshop stepped into the cavern, optics compensating for the low light.  Venom stood by the still, copper form of an ant nearly the size of him.  _It's poisoned, most likely._  With no real choice, Chopshop helped Venom lift the creature onto a rough table, where Venom immediately cut a small incision in the back of its head.

          Chopshop tapped his claws on the armour of the ant.  He was no entomologist, but he was reasonably certain that this creature was a worker of the same species as Venom's pet.  "You've obviously been here before.  What are you doing to them?"

          "Very little.  In a way, they do it to themselves," said Venom, raising a hand for inspection.  The silver hand was almost black, and the stain _moved_…

          "The Swarm," said Chopshop.  "I thought they were all destroyed… or can they replicate themselves?"

          Venom shook his head.  "No, they can't.  But there were millions of them, and Shrapnel couldn't destroy them all.  I recalled what were left, and there are still millions.  I infect a few of these ants, and they spread the Swarm to others.  I've been coming back to run tests."

          "How do you control them?"

          "That's not for you to know."  Venom had built an extra control box… but had it stored in its component pieces so to be undetectable by Shrapnel's scan.  Not that he was going to tell Chopshop.

          The beetle folded his arms.  "All right, so you've got ants.  Now what?"

          "I have a small colony of ants," corrected Venom.  "And whenever Ransack gets back, what we are going to do is attack the Hive."

* * *

          "Bombshell is enjoying himself far more than is strictly necessary," grumbled Cutter.  He was soon to go to his next session with the weevil, and wasn't thrilled.  While he _knew_ that all Bombshell was up to was the study of memory retention in coleop shells, it was difficult to hold down the mistrust he inherited from Kickback.  And for reasons he didn't want to examine too closely, Cutter sought out Sway.

          The dragonfly looked over at his approach, ceasing her practice and sheathing the spear she was using to chop up a defenceless tree.  "Hmm, I _did_ warn you about him."

          Cutter grinned.  "You did.  I swear, you're the only one who knows my past and still treats me like my own being…  What's wrong?"

          The dragonfly relaxed after a moment.  "More holdover reflexes," said Sway.  "You just, hmm, smiled like Kickback does.  It startled me."

          "Sorry."  Inwardly, Cutter kicked himself.  _Now I have to pay attention to my facial expressions?..  Though Bombshell never mentioned it…_

          "Boo."

          Cutter jumped; not so much because he was startled, but because he would know that voice anywhere.  He spun to see Kickback, standing casually, the faintest mocking grin tugging at the corner of the warrior's mouth.  "We were just talking."

          "You speak quickly, Cutter."

          Behind Cutter, Sway clapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation.  "Kickback…"

          "I was just razzing him…"

          "I have things to do.  Excuse me."  With a slight nod to Sway, deliberately ignoring Kickback, Cutter left.

          "Hrmm, you didn't have to do that," rumbled Sway once the medic was out of sight.  Still, it would be foolish to try to call Cutter back now, so she switched her attention to Kickback.  "You seem pleased with yourself."

          "Oh, I _am_," agreed Kickback, dancing a few steps.  "The weevil is in both love and denial."

          "You're joking."

          "Nope.  And now I can annoy him about it."

          The dragonfly crossed her arms, leaning against a tree.  "You would anyway.  Who's the, hrmm, lucky Insecticon, hmm?"

          "Skitter," said Kickback.  "I don't think you know her."

          "I don't."

          "I barely do.  I've only seen her twice, really.  She's one of the techs."

          "What makes you think they're in love, hmm?"

          "Oh, it's obvious," said Kickback carelessly.  "They're constantly getting on each other's nerves, looking for things to argue about…"

          Sway grinned.  "The way you and Bombshell act around each other, hmm?"

          "That, Sway, is an entirely different thing," Kickback retorted.  "What Bombshell and I do is a game to keep our wits sharp.  What Bombshell and Skitter do is a carefully crafted attempt to catch the other's attention without looking like they're trying to.  Bombshell claims it's a game, but if it was, he wouldn't have denied it at first."

          "The way you and Bombshell act around each other," Sway deadpanned.

_          "Swa-ay!"_

          She chuckled.  "Hmm, sorry, but you left it wide open."

          "If I wanted Bombshell's notice, I'd sit on him and tell him to pay attention to me," said Kickback.  "As it is, I _don't_ want it; I don't trust him…  Blast.  I hope he doesn't use Cutter's retained memories against me…"  At Sway's glare, he trailed off.  "What?"

          "You're paranoid.  He, hrmm, wants to help you."

          "Of course he says that.  I'm concerned, is all."  Kickback took the compad from the compartment in his hip.  "Vaguely speaking of the weevil, he wants me to go to Cybertron to transfer the old Sabocon records here.  I'll be going in four days.  Want to come along?"

          "Sure."

          Kickback cocked his head then, checking his internal chronometer.  "Anyway, I'm off for now.  I've got a rematch with Dagger."

          The dragonfly watched him leave, then went her own way.  "Hrmph."

* * *

          "Venom!  Where are you, noisemaker?"

          The cicada stifled a sigh at the voice.  It was times like this that he regretted making his minions immune to the Swarm…  _Ransack could stand to be more respectful, at least…_  Venom pulled himself to his feet and stepped out of the cavern.

          "Well, I brought her back," rumbled Ransack before Venom could get a word in edgewise.  He waved a hand at the copper Insecticon, who stood a bit behind him.  "She just needed things explained to her.  Her name is Nihil."

          Venom, while pleased to have her returned, didn't trust it one bit.  "She's damaged.  Ransack, I _told_ you…"

          "She was caught by a morphobot," said Ransack.

          "We destroyed it," added Nihil.  Her face was blank, but her optics glittered and there was triumph in her voice.

          Which could be a good thing or a bad thing.  On one hand, if she was loyal, her bloodlust was exactly what Venom wanted.  On the other hand, loyalty was unlikely.  Still, she was needed, at least for a while…  "Very good.  Report to Chopshop for repairs.  When that's finished, I'll be filling you and the others in on our plans for the immediate future."

          Ransack tilted his head in a 'come along' gesture and started away, Nihil following.  Venom settled back on his seat, steepling his fingers.  _Ransack got to her first, filled her new and inexperienced mind with his own ideas, and turned her against me.  They'll both have to be destroyed, or at least brought to heel.  Just as soon as I don't need them any more…_

* * *

          When Cutter showed up for his next appointment, Bombshell was scraping paper off of his wall.  It was off-white printed with tiny purple flowers.  Cutter decided not to ask why it had been put up, or where the perpetrator even _found_ wallpaper in the first place.

          Bombshell gave up fighting with the wallpaper when Cutter walked in.  "You're early."

          "I was talking to Sway.  Kickback chased me off."

          "Did he?"

          The grasshopper thought that over.  "No.  He showed up and I left."  Then, "I was wondering…  How much like Kickback _do_ I act?  Unconsciously, I mean; gestures, mannerisms, facial expressions..?"

          "Only in fight or flight situations, from what I can tell."  He pushed the chair to Cutter, who took it and sat down.  Bombshell considered sitting on the desk, but decided that would look unprofessional, so chose the lesser of two evils and leaned against it.

          "I see."  Cutter rested his elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped together.  "I don't know if I can keep talking to you like this, Bombshell," sighed Cutter.  "I _do_ remember being Kickback, but only the emotionally intense times… and he was _angry_ with you.  I can control it – they were _his_ feelings, not mine – but there are times…"

          Bombshell's optics flashed a grin.  "He decked me while in your form.  Maybe you can use that for catharsis."  _And that's not what you want to talk about, anyway.  I'll wait._

          The medic shook his head.  "No, no, it's not so bad with you.  It's easy to tell where his thoughts end and mine begin, and he was only mad at you for short periods.  It's… it's Sway.  I… I remember loving her."

          Twisting his hands in his lap, Cutter continued: "And… Kickback thought about her _constantly_, whenever he wasn't immediately occupied with something else.  He thought about her so much, and his emotions were so _strong_…  I think…  I think I would have at least _liked_ Sway, in any case, but here and now I can barely talk to her without _remembering_ things…  The worry that Ransack had killed her, the feel of her in my arms…  The look on her face when she thought Kickback died, and knowing I… knowing _Kickback_ couldn't tell her.  As if Kickback needs another reason to be out to get me." Cutter sighed.  "Maybe if I could get a different body…"

          "Do you think it would help?"

          "Probably not," Cutter agreed.  "I'd still have Kickback's memories, and I don't really want to transfer."

          Bombshell nodded.  Just because Transformers could easily switch bodies didn't mean they did it if there was any way to keep their old form.  If nothing else, they were creatures of habit, and once used to a body didn't like to have to learn a new one.  For example, Kickback could have simply kept the 'Cutter' shell – it was larger and stronger than his own – but he insisted his own body be recreated.

          "And you know what's _worse_?" asked Cutter.  "Around her, I _act_ like Kickback.  I didn't notice until she mentioned I did one of his flashbulb smiles – _you_ know what I'm talking about – and after that I looked back and realised…"

          He stopped, burying his face in his hands.  "I _don't want_ to be Kickback!  Is it the part of me that _is_ him that reacts to Sway like that, or am I unconsciously trying to win her over by acting like him..?  But I don't want to avoid her, either.  She's the only one who doesn't treat me like I'm their evil clone or some kind of research project!.."

          As soon as he said it, he regretted it.  "Sorry.  I…  I just…"

          He heard Bombshell shift his weight slightly, but couldn't look at him yet.  "Don't hold back," said Bombshell.  "The point of these little sessions is for me to figure out the extent to which Kickback imprinted on the body.  If you tell me what you think I want to hear, I'll get skewed results."

          "You don't even care, do you?  Not about me, just about your results."

          "I can't help _you_ unless I know how much Kickback's patterns influence you."

* * *

          He had finished the tree he had been eating, so Barrage reverted to robot mode, sitting on what was left of the fallen log and staring at the ground.  "He isn't an Insecticon."

          Chopshop, still in insect-mode, took another bite of the tree he'd been working on.  "Barrage, if you say that _one more time_, I'm going to short your vocaliser."

          The gunner turned a blank stare on Chopshop.  "It's important."

          _"Why?"_

          "We attack tomorrow.  We must protect Venom.  We must take him to Cybertron."

          Chopshop, at the end of his patience, was about to demand why, but caught sight of Barrage's optics and stopped.

          No longer blank, pinpoint fires burned in their depths; fires that spoke of determination, intelligence, and, above all, _purpose_.

          The twin fires fixed on Chopshop, resolute and unwavering.  "But I need your skills."

* * *

          "You know, I think I've seen more of Coleop in the last three months than I did in the last sixteen years, years."  And from the ground, which was also strange.  All Insecticons could fly, but Coronapis liked to walk.  She claimed that flight made one miss all the interesting things.

          "Shh!"   Coronapis took on a pose of careful listening, then her hand shot out into a clump of tall grass.  When she drew back, she was holding a dome-shaped beetle whose carapace shone like an oil slick.  On Earth it would have been huge, but it was only the length of Coronapis' hand.  She turned it over and proceeded to inspect it.  "You were saying?"

          "Nothing important, important," said Shrapnel, poking the beetle in the stomach and watching it wiggle.  The bug was officially classed as a member of species Coleop S-46-423, but the not-so-official name was 'green nibblers'.  While they ordinarily ate grass, they also had a taste for the Hive's wiring, and with their comparatively tiny size often slipped into the system and caused minor blackouts.  The Insecticon technicians hated the nibblers with a passion.

          The Queen set the nibbler back on the ground, and gave it a tap on its shell to send it running back for cover.  Shrapnel, who more than once had to fix chewed wires and clean out electrocuted nibbler husks, would have just as soon stepped on it.  "Frostbite keeps a few as pets," said Coronapis.  "She says they're very sweet and loyal if you catch them as grubs."

          "She also threatens to let them loose in people's rooms if they bother her, bother her."

          Coronapis made a face at him, but the ground started shaking, and the two Insecticons automatically drew closer together.  "Earthquake, Shrapnel?  I thought we weren't anywhere near a fault line."

          Shrapnel knelt to feel the ground.  "I'm not sure, not sure.  The vibrations feel strange…"

          The rumbling faded, but not completely.  "Whatever is causing this seems to be… running underground?" asked Coronapis, following the vibrations a few steps.  "We're still discovering new types of insects here.  Some type of huge tunnelling worm, perhaps?.."  Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her.  "Yeek!"

          "Coronapis!"

          "I was just startled.  I'm all right," said Coronapis, green optics glittering up out of the darkness.  "Come down; you might want to see this."

          Shrapnel hopped down.  "A tunnel indeed, indeed.  If this was caused by some type of worm, I don't want to know what it eats, eats."  There was enough clearance for his spines.

          "If it's a worm, it has millions of little feet," Coronapis added, kneeling on the cave floor.

          "Ants, ants.  But I thought they migrated overland, overland."

          Coronapis nodded.  "So did I."

          _To be continued…_


	4. Let The Ants Try

**Let The Ants Try**

          One of the problems with Cybertron was that it was an unnatural world, and as such, had no natural resources.  Coleop, on the other hand, had little _but_ natural resources.  It was one of the reasons why the Insecticons were tolerated.  The main reason was that if the Insecticons were on Coleop, they weren't on Cybertron, annoying the Decepticons.

          The Insecticons knew this, but as long as the Decepticons weren't actively trying to squash them, they also didn't care.  So there was the general arrangement: The Insecticons would send raw materials to Cybertron and stay out from underfoot, in exchange for tools they couldn't themselves manufacture, processed materials, and continued existence.  It wasn't the nicest agreement, but both sides were reasonably happy with it.

          Kickback was overseeing the latest shipment.  He kept track of them, of course, being the Official Insecticon Who Dealt With The Decepticons When They Had To ( he rarely had the same title two days in a row, but the job was the same. )  This time he was going to go along himself; Bombshell wanted the old Sabocon records, and while there were a few Insecticons on Cybertron, they wouldn't be able to get into the Sabocon headquarters.  Kickback wasn't sure if he himself could get in.  While Shrapnel, Bombshell, and himself used to be three of the five Sabocons, the alterations to his mind and body might have changed him too much to be able to get past the defences.

          He half-hoped that the base wouldn't accept his signature.  _That_ might be fun.

          And Sway was going to come along, which added to it.  It wasn't any macho urge to show off Cybertron; Sway had been there a few times before, and hadn't found it very interesting.  It was just that annoying the Decepticons wasn't nearly as much fun when one was alone.

* * *

          The larger the insect, the smaller the swarm.  Venom's copper ants were over three metres long, and their numbers rarely reached more than a few hundred per colony.

          This was more than enough.

          The technicians at the Hive barely had a chance to detect the minor seismic vibrations before the ants erupted from the ground in a copper swarm, Venom's Insecticons spearheading the attack.

          Within seconds, Kickback found himself in charge with no time to organize a defence.  "Stay in the air as much as you can!  These things can't fly!"

          "Very few of us have ranged weapons, Kickback!"  Sway's spear flashed in a gold arc, decapitating an ant.  "Hrmm, a clone army would be _very_ useful right now."

          "Which leaves just one question," said Kickback.  _"Where the blazes is Shrapnel!?"_

* * *

          "I've never heard of ants migrating underground before," said Coronapis.  "Maybe it's a new species."

          "More work for Frostbite, frostbite," agreed Shrapnel.  "We really should have more than one entomologist."

          Coronapis chuckled.  "I just spark them, I don't program them.  Typical of the Insecticon mindset to have everything but the obvious."

          "Well, while we're here, we should see what species of ant made these tunnels, tunnels," said Shrapnel, starting down the passageway towards the nest.

* * *

          "We're barely making a dent in the ants, Kickback!  Hrmm, there's too many of them!"

          "I know, baby."  Kickback fired off a couple of shots, then turned and slashed his claws across the plating of an ant that got too close.  "Some ants swarm, but with Venom and his friends leading the charge, I've got the sneaking feeling that this isn't normal behaviour."

          "Then Venom is probably controlling them somehow," agreed Sway.  "And if we, hmm, take _him_ out, the ants may scatter."  She sheathed her weapons and shifted to her dragonfly-mode.  "It's worth a try."

          "He'll be guarded, you lunatic!" shouted Kickback, about to chase after her, but was distracted by something taking a bite out of his foot and trying to pull him down.  Exasperated with the universe in general, Kickback gave himself up to his current battle.  Sway could take care of herself.

* * *

          If he was nothing else, Ransack was persistent.

          This wasn't always a positive quality.  While he would track any target with single-minded determination, this wasn't a useful trait in the middle of, say, a large-scale ground battle.  Because when Ransack caught sight of a familiar green form, he tossed both friend and foe aside as he stalked towards his target.

          The target, while sometimes striking out with deadly precision, for the most part was just trying to figure out how best to retreat.  Then something caught him from behind and hissed, "Hello, again."

          He had never actually met his attacker, but he knew him, and he knew his voice.  "Ransack!  I'm not…  I'm not…"

          "Uh-uh, that ain't gonna work again, 'Cutter'," hissed Ransack, tightening his grip just enough to make Cutter feel like his arms were going to be crushed in the bronze hands.  "The little body-switch was clever the first time, but it's not going to work if you just use the same one."

          Ransack howled as laserfire tore into his back, then turned to snarl at his attacker.  "I'll come play with you later, you…  You?"

          Kickback had his rifle aimed at the locust's chest.  "If it's me you're after, you should at least _recognise_ me."

          The locust tossed Cutter aside, the medic already forgotten.  "You and your little decoys.  Are you a fake, too?"

          "Not this time, Ransack.  Come get me."

* * *

          Barrage landed beside Venom, all weapons blazing.  Venom laughed.  "This will show them!  _I_ should lead the Insecticons!  This will…"

          Venom would have been more surprised if he had seen the blast coming.  As it was, he was cut-off in mid-rant.  Barrage caught the cicada before he fell, then slung him over his shoulder and gestured to Chopshop to follow him.

          It was easy for Barrage to catch Venom.  Barrage shot him, after all.

* * *

          Nihil ignored the fight around her, focussing on her objective.

          It was extremely easy to get into the Hive; the Insecticons were busy fighting the ants, or in hiding.  The result was the same as it always was, as it _should_ be – she could continue her task unhindered.

          She had done this once before, in hazy memories.  There was the flight, and mating, and tearing off her own wings, and, helpless, being taken away by Others.  But the Others loved her, fed her, groomed her, and in time took her to their Queen.  All this was right.  And she had climbed on the back of the Other's Queen, and bit through her neck.  The Others raised her brood as if they were of their kind, and in time were replaced entirely by her children.

          Now she was Nihil, and it was the same.  It didn't matter that it was all according to Venom's own plans; everything that was Nihil wanted to – _had_ to – complete this task.

          She had never been inside the Hive before.  It might have been the Jade Fan's programming that guided her steps, or it might have been instinct.  Nihil knew where she was going, where she _had_ to be…

          Anticlimactically, the door opened automatically before her.  One glance told her the impossible – the room was unoccupied.  Coronapis' 'tail' was there, of course, but the Queen herself was not.

          Nihil threw back her head and howled her rage: _"WHERE IS SHE!?"_

* * *

          He had made a serious mistake, and he knew it.

          There was no way outside of extreme luck that Kickback could take on Ransack by himself.  He was faster than the locust, and trickier… but Ransack was too strong to get anywhere near, and too well-armoured for Kickback's shots to do more than sting him.  Cutter was no help; the medic had bolted at first opportunity.

          Kickback waited for Ransack to take another shot at him, and blasted the gun out of the bronze warrior's hand.  Then, half-shifting, he lashed out with his insectoid feet, denting Ransack's plating and sending him crashing to the ground.

          Knowing his own weapon was next-to-useless on Ransack's thick armour, Kickback tried to snatch up the locust's own concussion-blaster from where it landed.

          Tried.

          The instant his back was turned, Kickback found himself face-first on the ground, Ransack's weight crushing him into the grass.  Pinned, the grasshopper used the only attack left to him; he swivelled his head around and took a bite out of Ransack's arm.

          Startled, Ransack jerked back, giving Kickback enough room to scramble out from under him.  Still, the locust gathered himself quickly enough to grab his opponent's foot, dragging Kickback to him.  Kickback shifted to grasshopper-mode and nailed Ransack in the chin with his free leg, but at the same time, Ransack twisted Kickback's caught leg into uselessness.

          "_Shreeeeee!_  Heads up, cutie!"  Blight and Darkside flashed from the sky like dark lightning; Darkside knocked Ransack back, while Blight scooped Kickback up and took back to the air.

          "I…"

          The blue locust landed a distance away and set Kickback on the ground.  "'You' nothing, cutie.  You're too damaged to fight that goon.  Don't worry – we won't tell Sway we bailed you out."  With a grin and a pat on his shoulder, Blight took off again to aid her partner in the fight.

          Darkside had managed to shove one of her javelins through the hand Ransack held his concussion blaster in, but he simply transferred the weapon to his other hand.  And despite her one hit on the locust, Darkside would have been in a great deal of trouble if Blight didn't return and start tearing into Ransack's back.  He managed to shake her off, but now Ransack had two quick little targets to deal with.

          Thirty seconds later, the odds changed again.

          "She's not there, Ransack!  The Queen is _not there!_"  Nihil's sword flashed out as she ran, cutting deep into Darkside's chest.  Blight gathered up her partner and leapt away, leaving Ransack and Nihil alone on the low ridge.

          "What are you _doing_ out here, Nihil?  You were _supposed_ to secure the chamber!"

          "It's no good to me so long as the old Queen lives!"  Nihil scowled.  "I don't expect a stupid creature like _you_ to understand…"

          With a snarl, Ransack caught the copper warrior by her neck.  "I'm your soldier, Nihil, not your drone."

          "_I_ am your Queen, and _you_ are whatever I want you to be."

          For a long moment, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills.  Then, very slowly, Ransack relaxed his grip.  "You're an Insecticon, not an insect.  Try to remember that."

          Then, without another word, they charged back into the fray.

* * *

          "Barrage, halt!"

          Barrage found himself with Sway hovering before him, one of her spears almost touching his nose.  Most people would have shouted for her to get out of their path or made some other threat.  Barrage simply opened fire, two charges ripping through Sway's side before exploding behind her, the shockwaves blasting her to the ground.  Barrage didn't even look at her.  "Chopshop, hurry!"

          "What about Ransack and Nihil?"

          "They're in their element," Barrage shot back.  "And we don't need them.  Now set the space-bridge, then come with us!"

* * *

          They found themselves fighting back-to-back.  "The ants are scattering," said Nihil.

          "I don't know where Venom got to.  I saw the space-bridge activate, so maybe he went that way, leavin' _us_ behind."  Ransack knocked an Insecticon from the sky with a concussion blast.  "Can't you control the colony?"

          "I've been trying," Nihil retorted.  "Venom either did something to me or to the ants, so I _can't_."  She blocked an attack, then, "We are going to be _very_ outnumbered in a few minutes.  We should retreat."

          "I _hate_ running."

          "So do I."  Still, by unspoken agreement, both took to the air and fled.  Survival always took precedence over anything else.

* * *

          Too damaged to fight physically, his left leg still in grasshopper-mode and too mangled to fold up properly, Kickback had taken to the sky, sniping at the copper ants below.  Dagger flew up to hover beside him.  "I think the ants are retreating."

          "That's what it looks like," agreed Kickback.  "Get back on the ground and help with the wounded.  I'll pick off the stragglers."

          Once he was satisfied that the copper ants were all either dead or gone, Kickback could turn his attention to other priorities.  He landed, but gracelessly, his leg folding uselessly under him.  He crashed to the grass with a curse.

          "You're damaged."

          "Brilliant observation, Cutter," Kickback snarled from the ground.  He squirmed away when Cutter tried to help him up.  "Just because I can't stand up doesn't mean I'm dying.  Go help someone who needs it.  I have to find Sway; we got split up in the fight."

          Using his good leg, Kickback managed to regain his feet long enough to take to the air again.  Cutter didn't bother to watch him leave, instead searching the ground for fallen Insecticons in need of repair.  _I should have helped fight.  I've got a warrior body, after all…  But I probably would have been slaughtered if I tried, and I'm needed now…_  The thought didn't really assuage his guilt.

          Then, before he quite realised what was happening, Cutter found himself pulled into the air by Kickback, and roughly dropped again a few hundred metres later.  A second to get his bearings told him why he was there.  "Oh…"

          "All that matters right now is 'operational', not 'pretty'," said Kickback sharply, though his face didn't match his voice.  "Just save her.  I don't care how."

          Cutter wasn't entirely certain if Sway _could_ be saved, not nearly ripped in half, not the way the energon was leaking out of her.  _At least she's in stasis,_ Cutter thought.  With her systems shut down, her body wouldn't be wasting power on any unnecessary things – as long as her mind lived, Sway could recover.  Also in his favour was that Insecticons had very simple systems; he only had to try to fix one fuel line, rather than several.  _Still, I have no idea how much fuel she has left, if that's even enough for the most basic…_

          He shot a quick look at Kickback; the warrior was kneeling, folded almost to the ground, hands on the sides of Sway's face, their foreheads touching.  If sheer force of will could keep the dragonfly alive, Kickback had that well in hand.  Cutter set to work.

* * *

          _Dying.  Oh, Cybertron, she's dying and there's nothing I can do about it!_  Kickback bit back a scream of frustration.  Anything he did would just distract Cutter…  _And what are you feeling, Cutter?  How much of you is me?  How badly are you hurting right now?_

          Irrationally, Kickback pressed his forehead against Sway's, trying to get closer.  _I should have bonded with you, if only to have something to hold on to.  Come back to me, baby.  Please.  Sway, I love you…_

          "Kickback?"

          Reluctantly, the warrior dragged himself back to reality.  For a mad instant he had hoped the voice was Sway's, but it was too soft, too sibilant.  He didn't look up.  "What do you want, Cutter?"

          "I… I patched her fuel line, but…"  Resting on his thighs, Cutter's hands clenched.  "She's still dying, Kickback."

          Kickback had Cutter by the throat before the medic even realised he'd moved.  Cutter wasn't even sure how Kickback even managed to close the distance so fast with only one functional leg.  "_No!_  Sway is a warrior.  She doesn't give up.  Never."

          "That's the _problem_!"  Cutter squirmed a bit, but couldn't break the smaller Insecticon's grasp.  "I thought she was in stasis, but her mind's still active, and it's trying to patch in her internal repair protocols when she _should_ be conserving her energy.  She's still fighting even though she doesn't need to, and it's using up what little power she has left!  She has to stop, but I don't know how to get through to her!"

          "Maybe I can.  She'll be in a receptive state; no power for her mental shields."_  And given the state I'm in, I'm probably broadcasting like crazy.  Wouldn't Bombshell love that?_  Kickback settled himself by the dragonfly, half-reclining, and carefully cupped her face with his hand.  _Sway…  Baby, can you hear me?  It's me – Kickback._

          Long seconds passed before there was a response: _Kickback?_

          _Uh-huh.  Stop fighting, baby.  You're safe.  I'll keep you safe.  I promise._

          There was a flicker of contrariness, an automatic rebellion at the thought of needing to be sheltered.  Kickback caught the edge of it and laughed silently.  _You'll do the same for me some day, I'm sure.  Don't worry; I won't tell anyone.  Now relax.  Let me take care of you.  Trust me._

          _Says the Great Spy Kickback,_ countered Sway with a chuckle.  Then, serious, _I will.  I do._

          She did.  Kickback knew she trusted him, but to suddenly find himself enveloped in that perfect confidence was… overwhelming.  And, he decided, quite wonderful.  He sighed, wrapping himself in the feeling.  It wasn't bonding, not this – this was only the touch of mental contact.  Soul-to-soul was more, so much more…

          "Kickback!  Kickback, snap _out_ of it!"

          _Sorry, baby – have to deal with reality.  Rest, okay?_  He waited for her silent assent before letting his senses drift outward.  "Get your hand off of my shoulder, Cutter."

          The medic complied.  "I hated to interrupt what was obviously a personal moment, but the last thing she needs right now is outside stimulation.  You two can work things out later, but right now I need to get her to the repair bay."

          "I'll do that.  I can't walk, but I can fly, and you're needed out here."

          Cutter nodded, then gently gathered up the dragonfly and placed her in Kickback's outstretched arms.  The grasshopper took a second to adjust to his burden, then took off towards the Hive, leaving Cutter to his tasks.

* * *

          The ant was bigger than he was, dark copper, and lying dead on the work table.  Bombshell had dragged it in off the battlefield ( after the wounded were patched or brought in to the repair bay ) in hopes of figuring out how Venom got them to attack.  Skitter had tagged along, and Bombshell, who tended to prefer working alone, found he was still a bit rattled by the whole surprise attack, and was glad of the company.  Skitter would be useless for fixing people, anyway, with her unusual squeamishness.

          _Not that she's going to be a great deal of help here, either,_ thought Bombshell, noticing that Skitter was looking at – but carefully not touching – the copper ant.  Still, if nothing else, she might have a few ideas about the situation.

          For her part, Skitter, seated primly on a countertop, watched him pace for a while before saying, "Okay, Bombshell.  Out with it."

          "If all Venom wanted to do was use the space-bridge, why did he send an entire ant colony after us!?"

          The space-bridge rarely had more than two guards.  Venom's crew could have easily overpowered them on any other day, and given some excuse to the Decepticons on Cybertron why they were there.  'Just visiting,' was as much a reason as most Insecticons gave.  Skitter didn't flinch at Bombshell's shout – he wasn't angry at _her_, after all.  "And _why_ did he leave?" demanded Bombshell at closer to ordinary volume.  "Venom's made his desires abundantly clear – he wants to lead the Insecticons.  He can't _do_ that from Cybertron!"

          "According to you, he's been getting loopier by the day," said Skitter.  "Maybe he's just doing things randomly now."

          "Maybe.  A couple of the warriors reported that Ransack and that other one _didn't_ leave with him – they ran off, so they're still on Coleop someplace."  Bombshell found a chair and slumped into it.  "_I_ want to know where Shrapnel was during all this.  A clone army would have saved a lot of casualties.  And neither Shrapnel nor Coronapis have answered their radio for hours."

          The technician giggled, but nervously.  "Well, you know how distracted those two can get around each other."

          Bombshell glared.  "Never this bad.  They always keep contact available, at least.  And besides, it isn't that their communicators are _off_, it's that they're… blocked somehow.  Several things can block our radios; jamming fields, certain types of radiation…"

          "Or being underground," finished Skitter obediently, knowing what Bombshell was driving at.  Coleop had a few unusual elements in its crust.

          "Exactly.  And since Venom's latest foray into Insecticon domination seems to centre on ants…"

          "I get it, I get it."  Skitter jumped down from the counter to face him, waving her hands helplessly.  "But what can we _do_?  We barely made a dent in the ant colony!  And if Shrapnel and Coronapis are captured somewhere, we'll never find them!"

          The weevil decided not to point out that capture was only one option of many, and instead sulked for a few minutes.  "How do ants communicate?"

          Skitter shrugged.  "I don't know.  Pheromones, I think."

          "Think you could take control of the colony?" asked Bombshell.

          "Are you kidding?  One, I don't know if that's how it works; two, I don't have pheromone glands since I became an Insecticon; and three, these big copper things aren't even my species," she replied.  "We could probably duplicate the chemicals needed… _if_ we had any idea what they were."

          Bombshell tapped his fingers on the table, then activated his communicator: "Frostbite, report to Science Lab Two."

* * *

          Despite being Insecticon scientists, neither Bombshell nor Skitter was an entomologist.  Fortunately, Bombshell had one on staff.  Frostbite cut a delicate line into the exoskeleton on the ant's head, then opened the two halves.  "This species has a bigger brain than other Coleop ants I've seen."

          "Oh, thanks."  Well back from the operation, obviously queasy, Skitter tried to sound like she wasn't.

          "You've got an Insecticon processor anyway, dearie," said Frostbite.  "Maybe it means this species is more intelligent, or it might just be different…  What the?.."  The wasp took her hand from the ant's cranial chamber, and her ice-blue fingers were black.  "Bombshell?.."

          Bombshell peered at the dust.  "Nanomachines.  It's the Swarm, all right.  Don't worry; when Shrapnel and I cleared it out of everyone the first time, we made everyone immune, and Venom hasn't got the equipment to modify them."  He settled back against the next table.  "At least we know how Venom was controlling them."

          "We've still got Venom's old control box, I think," said Skitter, already on her feet.  "He's probably changed the control frequency, but it's worth a peek."

          The technician ran off.  Bombshell poked at the copper ant again.  "It'll be one thing to figure out the Swarm's control frequency.  It'll be quite another to figure out how to _use_ it.  What we need is a live specimen of this species."

          "Preferably two," added Frostbite, methodically removing the ant's exoskeletal plating.  "One for you to play with and one for me to run tests on.  I'm curious about these oversized brains.  Their nervous systems don't seem to be anything special."

          "We haven't got anyone to spare for a hunt," Bombshell sighed.  "Most of our people suffered massive damage in the attack, and those that didn't are busy fixing them."  _In fact, we should be helping with repairs… except that we might be able to do more good here by learning how to prevent a second attack._

          "What about us?"

          "What _about_ us?  We are a psychological warfare expert, a mechanical scientist, and an entomologist.  Of us three, I'm the only one with _any_ combat training.  None of us are hunters."  Bombshell settled back against the table.  "A few of our warriors should be nearly repaired.  Once we have them…"

          "Ransack might try again, and we can't hold the colony off a second time.  Ants are pretty stupid, in their way – they're easily controlled.  Ransack and his friend might be able to get them to attack, even without the help of the Swarm.  We can't risk it and we can't wait.  Besides, between the three of us, we're more than suited to tracking ants."  The wasp cocked her head slightly.  "Since when are you the cautious type?"

          "He's _always_ cautious.  And stodgy.  And boring."  Skitter stood at the door, refusing to come closer to the table and what lay on it.  "I found the box."

          The term 'control box' was misleading.  The device was actually a small cube of circuitry, removed from Venom when he first tried to take over.  Skitter dropped it into Bombshell's hand when he walked over for it.  She asked, "One thing I don't get – if we've got the controller, how come Venom can still use the Swarm?  From what it sounded like from when they first were causing trouble a few months ago, him and his goons ran off too quickly to have taken any manufacturing equipment with them."

          "Venom is – unfortunately – highly intelligent," said Bombshell, peering at the control box.  "Most of us carry tools, and one thing Coleop _doesn't_ lack is natural resources.  Or he had a back-up, for all we know.  Shrapnel didn't get a chance to search Venom thoroughly."  He handed the cube back to Skitter, collected a vial from a sideboard, then returned to the table to carefully sweep some of the Swarm into the container.  "Frostbite, see if you can come up with some kind of non-damaging paralytic compound for this species.  Skitter, come with me.  We'll try to find the Swarm's control frequency."

* * *

          Yellow light like a wavering candle flickered in Sway's optics as her systems allowed her to regain consciousness.  Proper sight returned slowly, bringing into focus a familiar shadow.  "Ki… Kickback?.."

          He had one of her hands between both of his.  "I'm here, baby.  I'm always here."  They weren't alone in the waiting area, but no one was really nearby.  Not that he cared.  For once in his long life, Kickback decided that privacy could go take a walk.

          She smiled, squeezing his hand weakly.  "Mm, what happened?  I assume we won if I'm still, hrmm, functional…"

          Kickback laughed quietly, bringing Sway's hand against his face and holding it there.  "We drove off the colony, at least for now.  As to your personal survival… let's say that Cutter's earned his form."

          "Good for him.  So, hmm, what now?  Do we finally get to track down Venom and exterminate him?"

          "Not in your condition, beautiful."

          She tried to sit up, and found she couldn't.  "How bad is it?"

          "Half the exoskeleton from your midsection is still missing, a lot of your wiring is fried, and your motor cables haven't been reattached, though your fuel line has been repaired.  You're also missing half a wing and have assorted bites out of your armour all over," said Kickback.  "The techs finally have everyone stabilised… at least, everyone who survived.  I'm still waiting around for repairs, too."

          "Hmm, you don't look _too_ bad."

          "Oh, the urge to misinterpret…" Kickback grinned, then wiggled the stump of his right wing.  "I got bits missing all over the place and one of my legs doesn't work.  I'm just not as badly off as you."

          Experimentally, Sway flexed her fingers.  With the wires connecting to her lower body torn, she couldn't feel anything below her chest.  With her motor cables severed, her torso, wings, and tail were paralysed; her limbs had their own systems, but she couldn't sense her legs.  She could still control her arms, she found, to a minor degree.  Still, Kickback placed his hands on her shoulders.  "Don't move around too much.  Just because everything vital works doesn't mean you should try to damage the nonessentials."

          A bit reluctantly, Sway settled herself back.  She didn't like lying around helpless.  "Hmm, Kickback…"

          "Yeah, baby?"

          "What happened to me?  No, no, I know Barrage shot me, I mean… after."  Sway paused, annoyed at being unable to phrase the question.  "Hrmm…  Between then and now.  I… remember you, asking me to trust you, and there was something else…"

          "Internal radio," Kickback glossed.  "You were wasting energy trying to pull yourself back to consciousness, so I told you to relax."

          Sway squeezed his hand again.  "There was something else, mm, right at the end.  Something sweet and sad and… painful."  She clenched her free hand, needing to move, but her actions were limited.  "It was…  It was…  Just remembering it makes me want to hold you until the hurt goes away."  She looked away and finished softly, "I, hmm, can't describe it better.  It was just… that kind of feeling.  I wish I was better with words…"

          "Sorry I gave you that.  I was just… thinking.  And remembering."  He let her hand go so her could stroke the sides of her face.  "Sway, I… I may not be ready to bond for a long time, but that doesn't take away from it.  I love you.  You've been…  You've been so much to me; I don't even know where to begin…"

          "Shh.  I love you, too.  You don't, mm, need to explain.  Not immediately, anyway."  He was close enough that even in her weakened condition, Sway could reach a hand up to rest on his waist.  "You can, however, tell me again."

          Kickback chuckled at that, a quiet sound of self-depreciation.  "I owe you that much, do I?"  He settled a hand on her undamaged side, then buried his face in the curve of her neck.  "All right, baby, you asked for it: I love you.  Love you, love you, love you…"

          "And how long do you intend to keep _that_ up, hmm?"

          "As long as it takes," he said, propping himself up on his elbows to grin at her.  "The rest of my life, probably."

          "Excuse me."  While soft, Cutter's voice carried well. 

          Kickback didn't look up.  For Sway's audios only he hissed, "That's it; I'm going to kill him."

          "Be nice, hmm?"

          "_This_ time, for you.  _Next_ time he interrupts us, I'm going to kill him."  Kickback reluctantly let go of Sway to glare at the tech.  "What do you want, Cutter?"

          "_This_ is a repair bay, _I_ am a medic, and _you_ two are damaged.  What do you _think_ I want?"  Cutter paused, passing a hand over his optic visor.  "Sorry.  It's been a long day and it's barely afternoon."

* * *

          Transformers, as a whole, weren't particularly impressed with the Insecticons.  Some thought they were at most useful, or at least cute.  Respect never entered into it.

          It was amazing how much respect one could get from someone by holding a charged rifle to his nose, even if one had to stand on a table to do it.

          In the past, most Decepticons had been built in factories, but with the loss of Vector Sigma, mass-production was no longer a viable option.  Private workshops were the wave of the future, and technicians who once built unique creations for picky customers now found themselves in high demand… or with an Insecticon standing on his worktable, holding a gun to his face, in one case.

          Styleline, who prided himself on complete neutrality, had never before had problems with either the Autobots or Decepticons, and thus wasn't used to having his life threatened.  There were, in fact, three Insecticons who had broken into his lab, but only one had his immediate interest.  Styleline found his attention wavering between the rifle touching his nose, and the optics of the one who held it – burning a dull red, except for two searing pinpoints of light that bored into his own.

          "Our master is… damaged," said Barrage flatly.  "He needs a new body.  You will build it."

          It didn't occur to Styleline to even try to say 'no'…

          _To be continued…_


	5. Bothriomyrmex Decapitans

**Bothriomyrmex Decapitans**

          "Ants are kind of dumb," said Frostbite.  "Well, hard-wired for specific reactions," she amended when Skitter pouted.  "Basically, as long as we smell like the colony, they should leave us alone."  The wasp held up a small bottle.  "I _think_ this is the chemical the ants use to identify their nestmates.  If I had more time to study…"

          Bombshell disagreed: "We don't know if we _have_ time."

          The wasp shook the bottle once, then spritzed the solution over Bombshell, Skitter, and herself.  Skitter made a face and started preening her antennae before thinking better of it and tucking her hands behind her back.  Insecticons tended to have messy living spaces, but they kept themselves clean.

          Bombshell folded into his weevil-form.  "The ants should be fairly easy to find.  They left plenty of holes around, so we'll just follow their tunnels until we find one, then we'll paralyse it and drag it back."

          "_I'll_ paralyse it," Frostbite reminded him, retrieving a container from the counter and pouring its contents into a small port on her midsection.  "Hopefully.  I'm not sure if the poison will work, either, given my lack of test subjects."  Then she and Skitter shifted to their insect-modes as well, and followed Bombshell outside.

          Within minutes, the three Insecticons found an opening, and were into the system of tunnels.  After a little while, they realised that their small access connected to a sizeable corridor.  "An ant highway," mused Frostbite.  "The nest isn't actually anywhere near the Hive, so Venom had the ants carve out this underground road."

          "I don't get how the Swarm can work on the ants," Skitter said.  "They aren't robots."

          "My cerebro-shells work on humans, I've found," said Bombshell.  "A bit differently than how they work on Transformers, but still sufficient.  As long as there's something to tap into, they can.  I suspect the Swarm works by the same rules.  That, and a coleop mind is closer in construction to a Transformer mind than a human's would be – coleop are based on silicon, rather than carbon."

          "But we have carbon alloy in our shells."

          "Amongst other things," agreed Bombshell.  "Stop quibbling, Skitter – in this case, it's what's inside that counts."

* * *

          "Pardon a poor, confused stag beetle, but what the slag are we trying to accomplish here?" hissed Chopshop.  "You shot and kidnapped Venom, convinced me to help you drag him up here, had me break into this workshop…  What are you _doing_?"

          Without taking his attention from Styleline's work, Barrage said, "Venom's Decepticon mind is incompatible with his Insecticon body.  He isn't designed to handle organic input like the rest of us can.  It would have been too risky to alter Venom's mind, so I had to find him a fully robot form."

          "I think I'm beginning to understand why you like Venom so much.  You're both insane," muttered Chopshop.

          If Barrage heard, he didn't seem to care.  "Venom couldn't have known that the unusual input would result in the deterioration of his logic circuits.  Fortunately, I realised what was happening and devised a plan to repair him."

          All together, Barrage's explanation nearly doubled the amount of words Chopshop had ever heard from him, and the beetle said so.  The gunner shrugged.  "I didn't have anything to say to you before."

          There wasn't any good way to reply to that, so Chopshop didn't, and instead just settled back to keep a watch on the entry monitors.  The last thing they needed was for someone to walk in on the operation.

* * *

          The return to consciousness was sudden, and her senses practically hummed with new energy.  "Hrmm, how long was I out _this_ time?"

          "A few hours," said Cutter.  Then, because he knew she'd want the exact number, "Four-point-three-seven, actually.  You were the most damaged of the survivors."

          Sway swung her legs over the edge of the table and sat up.  "And Kickback?"

          "Weaver took care of him.  He's been haunting the corridor for the last hour now."  If only because he knew that if he tried to wait in the actual repair bay, Cutter would have Weaver web him to the wall.  The medic nodded to Sway: "All systems functional?"

          The dragonfly stood and tried her limbs.  "Everything seems to be, though the real test will be a sparring match or a few practice manoeuvres.  Hmm, good work."

          Cutter smiled.  "Thank you.  Back on the battlefield, I was afraid we'd lose you."

          "Because Kickback would tear you apart if you didn't, hmm?"

          "He wasn't paying _me_ any attention," Cutter retorted.  Then, quieter, "When Kickback brought me to you, I was terrified it was too late.  You're so… alive.  The thought that you might be terminated was unbearable."

          "Cutter, you're sweet, but you're not my type."

          The medic smiled slightly at that.  "Always to the point.  No, I know – Kickback is your type, and I can never _be_ Kickback, despite what everyone expects of me."

          "I like you as Cutter.  Mmm, even _I'm_ not crazy enough to want more than one Kickback around."  Then with a grin and a comradely slap on the shoulder, Sway left him.

* * *

          The hours passed slowly to Chopshop, between watching the doors, watching Styleline, watching Barrage…  Barrage, who so often seemed like nothing more than an obedient worker.  _I suspected there was a sharp mind ticking away under there… he just thinks slowly.  And now that he's worked everything through to his satisfaction… now he can act…_  Barrage had a purpose, at least for a little while, and he wouldn't let it go until his objective was completed.

          Which brought a new thought to Chopshop: _I've been assuming Venom's repair was Barrage's goal.  What if it isn't?  There's no way to predict what he's decided._

          Luck was on the side of the gunner, and Styleline's steady work went uninterrupted.  Eventually the freelance engineer took a step back from his creation.  "It's done.  His body is complete, and his mind attached.  All readings show normal.  The transfer is successful."

          Venom's optic visor glowed as power flowed into his form – still insect-like, still recognisable, but purely robotic.  Barrage showed the first emotion he had since he arrived – the scarab smiled.

          "Perfect," he said.

          And shot Styleline.

* * *

          "I think I see a light, light.  We must be near the surface."

          Coronapis trailed her claws along the cavern wall.  "These walls are different.  This corridor wasn't made by the ants, but it isn't a natural carved-by-the-elements tunnel, either."

          "Insecticon work, work," said Shrapnel.  "I can sense their residual energy patterns, patterns.  Venom's crew, maybe."

          The tunnel opened up into a natural cavern, sunlight streaming in from the mouth of it.  "They were here.  At least, _someone_ was here," Coronapis amended.  "I can sense five separate energy signatures, and the place looks lived-in."

          "I wonder if the Jade Fan vanished because she joined Venom, venom," mused Shrapnel.  Then, "Five traces?  I can feel six, but one is very faint, faint."

          "Faint?..  Oh – yes.  There _is_ a sixth, but I can barely feel it."

          "I can…"  Shrapnel trailed off, then looked around as if sniffing the air, and followed the signature.

          "Anyway, there _was_ a fight here; that much is obvious," said Coronapis.  "There are blast-marks all around, and traces of energon soaked into the dirt."  A sudden twisting sensation caught her by surprise and made her forget about her investigation; not an attack, but a sudden, startled surge of emotion from her bondmate.  Coronapis ran out of the cavern to find him.  "Shrapnel!  Shrapnel, what happened?"

          He caught her before she could run past him.  "I've… found the Jade Fan, fan…"

* * *

          Leaving Devourer vaguely in charge with shoot-to-kill orders if Ransack and the ants returned, Kickback and Sway took the last of the shipment to Cybertron.  Kickback's original mission was to find the Sabocon base and transfer its files to the Hive, but his objectives had changed somewhat.  While the initial assignment remained priority, he also intended to see if they could track down Venom, Barrage, and Chopshop, who had fled through the bridge in the confusion of the ant attack.  Reports said that Venom was wounded, which was likely why his followers had taken off through the closest escape route.

          The Coleop space-bridge deposited Kickback and Sway in the watchtower of the Second Sector.  The monitor looked over when the door opened.  "Hello, Kickback."

          "Hi, Lightwave."  While the Decepticon didn't particularly respect the Insecticons, he _did_ like them, and that was enough for Kickback.  "Three Insecticons came through here a few hours ago with the rest of the stuff – a cicada, a stag beetle, and a scarab.  Do you have any idea where they are now?"

          "No idea."  While the Insecticons liked Lightwave, he was still a Decepticon, and admitting to dissention in their ranks could be seen as weakness.  Thus Kickback intended to keep Lightwave in the dark to his motives.  "One of 'em was being carried, but then, some people just can't handle the space-bridge."

          Which lined up with reports – they knew Venom had been damaged in the fight.  "Who helped unload the delivery?"

          The gold Decepticon shrugged.  "Two of my maintenance crew, a few mindless drones.  None of your Insecticons were around, if you're wondering."

          _No Insecticons to recognise Venom and trail him,_ thought Kickback irritably, but his face remained blank.  Thanking Lightwave for his help, Kickback and Sway left the watchtower.

          "No leads," grumbled Kickback once they were out in the open Cybertronian street.  "No energy signatures, even; they must have flown, wherever they went."

          "We could ask Lightwave to check the security records, in case they were caught on camera," suggested Sway.  "Except that would raise a bit of suspicion, if we seemed so eager to find them, hmm?"

          "'Hmm', indeed."  The grasshopper switched his radio on.  "Mimic, this is Kickback."

          "What do you need, leader?"

          There were many Insecticons on Cybertron… and the Decepticons were completely unaware of at least three-quarters of that number.  Mimic was one of these.  "Venom, Barrage, and Chopshop arrived on Cybertron a few hours ago.  Begin search patterns."

          "Acknowledged.  Mimic out."

          Kickback turned his radio off and shifted to his grasshopper form.  "He'll set the search in motion.  Let's see if I can remember where the Sabocon base is."

* * *

          "Shrapnel!  Coronapis!"

          "Bombshell, shell!" Shrapnel called back, waving to include Skitter and Frostbite.  "What are you three doing out here, out here?"

          "Looking for ants," said Bombshell, then briefly outlined the attack.

          Shrapnel scowled.  "I should have been there."

          "Should have, weren't, too late now," agreed Bombshell.  "We picked up your energy signatures on the underground road and followed them here.  Where are we?"

          "We're fairly certain this is Venom's camp," said Coronapis.  "Strange that none of them returned to it, though."

          "Not really.  Ransack is a hunter-tracker; he'd know that we could easily find the underground road and backtrace energy signatures," said Bombshell.  "Venom escaped.  He, Chopshop, and Barrage took the space-bridge.  They could be anywhere by now."

          "Kickback and Sway have gone as well," added Frostbite.  "Officially they're supposed to be looking for your old records, but knowing those two, they'll be hunting as well."

          The beetle nodded.  "Good for them, for them.  Bombshell, you mentioned a fifth Insecticon in Venom's group, group?"

          "Yes.  We didn't recognise her.  Venom must have built her, but that's impossible."

          "Not for Venom, venom."  Shrapnel gestured for Bombshell to follow him, and lead him to the remains of the Jade Fan.  "There's two mysteries solved, solved."

          Bombshell knelt by the torn shell of the butterfly.  "Her mechanical parts have been removed.  There's nothing left but insect."  And there wasn't much of that, either.  "I see what you mean.  There's no way Venom could have made the equipment to create a new Insecticon, but he could have taken the Jade Fan's parts and installed them in another coleop."

          "That's… that's _horrible_!"  Skitter peered out from where she was hiding behind Frostbite, then ducked back before she could actually see anything.  "How could anyone _do_ something like that?"

          "Very carefully, I'd say, probably starting with the conversion tank and fuel system," said Bombshell absently, ignoring Skitter's squeak of disgust.

          The ant squeaked again when Frostbite left her to check on the body herself.  "It's feasible.  We tend to have very simple transforms, so the same systems could work on another insect…  You realise we're all assuming that Venom's warrior is a new being, rather than just the Jade Fan in a new body?"

          "She was antisocial and unpleasant, but she wouldn't have sided with Venom.  Besides, there's no reason to do something as risky as make a new form from old parts just as a disguise," said Bombshell.  

* * *

          After an hour of flight, Kickback was getting worried.  "I know the way.  I _should_ know the way.  I'm _sure_ we're headed in the right direction, but it doesn't feel right…"

          "Where are we headed, generally?" asked Sway.

          "Fourth Sector, Tetracon City.  The clean-up crews haven't reached it yet, so unless the Sabocon base was destroyed in the last four million years, it should still be there…  Ah-_ha_!  I know why this seems wrong!" exclaimed Kickback suddenly.  "It's the speed!  I used to be much faster."

          "Hmm, and here I thought we'd have to stop and ask for directions."

          "Like anyone but a Sabocon would know where the place is," Kickback retorted.  "I know the way; it'll just take longer than I remember is all."

* * *

          "I don't see why we have to walk back through the tunnels, tunnels."

          "Because some of us are still trying to catch an ant," said Bombshell.  "Finding you and Coronapis was just a distraction."

          Shrapnel made a face at him, but kept walking.  He and Coronapis were still in robot-mode, partly because Coronapis' mobile form didn't have a transform, but mostly so they could hold hands.  The other three were scuttling on ahead in insect-mode.

          Suddenly Bombshell – who was in the lead – stopped, shifting back to his robot form.  "Wait.  I think I hear something up ahead…"

          Half a second later, a bolt of energy slammed into him, singeing his chest plating and knocking him off of his feet.  Following the blast were Ransack and Nihil, but only Ransack charged through the smaller Insecticons.  Then, before the others could gather themselves for an attack, the locust grabbed Coronapis, and threw her back the way he came.

          Ransack opened fire with his concussion-blaster again, but this time he wasn't aiming at the Insecticons.  The shots slammed into the tunnel ceiling, caving it in.

          Frostbite flew out of the way of the cave-in, dragging Skitter with her, landing near Bombshell.  Ransack staggered slightly as a cerebro-shell smacked into his forehead and dug in, sending slender silver tendrils into his cranial chamber.  The bronze warrior let go of his weapon and dropped to his knees, tried to claw at the cerebro-shell, but his body stopped obeying him, and he fell on his face.

          Ignoring the rest of them, Shrapnel ran to the cave-in.  "Coronapis!"  Then, thinking better of it, he switched on his radio: "Coronapis, are you there, there?"

          _"Still functional, love.  I'm on the other side of the fallen debris."_

          "All right.  Was the other warrior caught by the collapse, collapse?"

          _"I think so.  I don't see her."_

          "We'll come find you, Coronapis."

          "Digging will take too long, Shrapnel.  We'll have to try to find her through the tunnels," opined Skitter.

          "Stand back, back."  Once everyone had ducked out of the way, Shrapnel fired a grenade at the blocked tunnel.  Once the grenade exploded into shards, the beetle used his cloning powers on a few of the pieces.  The instant workforce began chewing through the rock and sand.

          "While they're working, we've got time to deal with a few things," said Bombshell.  The locust groaned when Bombshell prodded him with his foot.  "Get up, Ransack."

          He did, slowly.  "He's fighting it," Bombshell reported.  "I don't know how, but he is."

          "Allow me, me," hissed Shrapnel, whose spines glowed blue.  The energy lashed Ransack, but left him undamaged.  "While immune to the Swarm, he was still infused with the nanomachines, machines.  I've deactivated them."

          Bombshell concentrated for a few seconds, then scowled.  "It's not helping."

          Skitter tapped Bombshell on the shoulder, and when he turned, gave him a questioning glance.  The weevil shrugged his permission, so Skitter stepped forward and said, clearly, "Ransack, how can you resist Bombshell's cerebro-shell?"

          There was a pause.  Frostbite started, "Skitter, that's easily the silliest way…"

          She was cut off by Ransack.  "Don't… know.  Nihil… Nihil _does_ something…"

          "I don't _care_ what she _does_," snapped Shrapnel.  "I'm worried about what she's going to _do_ to Coronapis, napis!"

          "Only one thing… she _can_ do," Ransack mumbled before collapsing again.

* * *

          Coronapis shoved a slab of rock off of her leg.  A minor damage warning flashed behind her optics, but she was only dented, so she stood up.

          From her new position, she could see Ransack's comrade.  She wasn't as lucky as Coronapis was.  The ant was buried to her waist, one of her hands trapped as well, and struggling to free herself.  Coronapis walked over, but stayed out of reach.  "Looks like whatever you were planning didn't work out."

          "So you say."  The warrior pulled her hand from the ground with enough violence to spray dirt in all directions.  "We are here together, are we not?"

          "Who are you?  What do you want?"

          "I was born long ago, and fulfilled my purpose; I was taken by the Others and replaced their queen.  Perhaps my daughters have done the same since.  I do not know.  Then I was reborn, but you were not with your colony.  I could not make it mine."

          Her arms surged downwards, and with a twist, she tore herself out of the ground.  "I am Nihil, the queen of the ants reborn."

* * *

          Shrapnel kicked Ransack in the side, but dented his foot more than the warrior's hide.  _"What!?  What is she going to do?"_

          "What… what she _has_ to do…  She knows… she's an Insecticon.  She… just doesn't care," Ransack managed.  "Acts like an ant."  Then, with a strange chuckle, "Don't know… what _I_ am to her…"

          "Try to stay focussed, focussed," Shrapnel snarled, crouching down to take Ransack's face in his hands, forcing the warrior to look at him.  "What.  Does.  Nihil.  Want.  With.  Coronapis?"

          Ransack looked at him as if explaining something obvious.  "She's going to cut off her head.  And then she will be the Insecticon Queen."

* * *

          Coronapis ran.  There wasn't much else she _could_ do, not against Nihil.  Not by herself.

          It didn't cross her mind that Nihil might not follow, that Coronapis' retreat would signal victory.  The warrior _had_ to follow.

          There could only be one Queen.

          But Coronapis had no advantages; Nihil was a warrior, larger, stronger, faster, and more deadly than her.  Coronapis couldn't even transform – most of her body was kept in her chamber.  And where Coronapis could talk and negotiate, Nihil ran on instinct.  There could be no compromise.

          _If I can find a way to the surface…  Nihil can also fly, but I know the surface better than she does.  And these tunnels are hers…_  It didn't help that the nest was also occupied.  The ants were slowly returning, and while the Insecticons put a dent in their numbers, Coronapis occasionally had to dodge one of the copper creatures.  She was too quick for them, at least.

          _Nihil's thinking like an insect.  Maybe she won't think to trace my energy signature._  Coronapis stopped running, instead flying through the tunnels, to eliminate her footprints.  _Still, I need to get to the surface.  I'll be fine if I can just get out of these caves…_

          She didn't entirely believe it – Coronapis just couldn't shake the little voice at the back of her mind, the one that was reminding her that in the long struggle between termite and ant, the ants tended to win…

* * *

          Shrapnel's Insecticon clones finished chewing through the cave-in, then collapsed into piles of scrap as Shrapnel released control.  Then, without so much as a second thought, he shifted to insect-mode and flew off into the darkness.

          "_Shrapnel!_  You idiot, get back here!  You don't…  Oh, forget it," Bombshell finished.  Coronapis was going to need all the help she could get against Nihil, and Shrapnel could track her easily.  Instead, the weevil returned his attention to Ransack: "All right, you.  Get up.  You might as well come along, and we're not going to carry you."

          The locust, very slowly, managed to get to his hands and knees.  "Bombshell…  Something… something you need to know…"

          "Well?"

          "Back when we first joined him, Venom made us immune to your cerebro-shells."

          Before the others could react, Ransack's concussion-blaster was in his hand again.  The first shot missed, but the next two slammed into Bombshell, and the force smashed him into the wall before he collapsed.  "Shrapnel's the only one of you who stands any chance against me, but since he's not gonna be _expecting_ me…  Well, Nihil doesn't want her hunt… interrupted."  With that, he began his chase.

          Frostbite immediately knelt by Bombshell.  "Skitter, radio Shrapnel and warn him.  He's got no chance against Ransack otherwise."  With that taken care of, she pulled off Bombshell's damaged front panel for a better look.  "Concussion blast – crushing damage, mostly…  _Ohhh_, scrap…  Skitter, I need your help with this!"

          The ant had backed away a few steps.  "H-help?  Frosty, I _can't_…  I can't work on _people_!.."

          "And I don't know how to fix robots!" said Frostbite desperately.  "I'm an entomologist… and Bombshell isn't an insect, not really – he's a Cybertronian who just _looks_ like a weevil!  I can repair the Coleop Insecticons, but…  Skittles, I can't fix him myself!"

          Desire to help warred with her innate squeamishness for several seconds, the emotions playing across her face as she twisted her hands together.  Then, with an obvious effort, she set her shoulders.  "Just a machine.  I'm just fixing a machine.  I know machines…"

          Jaw set, still repeating her mantra to herself, Skitter knelt beside Bombshell, opposite to Frostbite, and began work.

* * *

          "This is it!  I know it is!"  Kickback banked and dove, shifting and landing on his two feet.

          Sway landed beside him a second later.  "This place is a junk pile."

          "Only on the outside," said Kickback, who started tapping his claws on the burnt-looking wall.  "Common enough ploy, I suppose, but no patrol wants to search _every_ burnt-out building in case one is just a front."  After a minute, his fingers found a hidden latch, which led to another section of ruin.  However, there was a small pad hidden under a disguised panel.  Kickback opened the back of his hand, extracted a wire, and plugged it into a port, causing a section of wall to slide aside.

          The two Insecticons stepped into the corridor beyond.  It was clean, but faded.  "Hmm, I note that the ceilings are too low for the average Decepticon to easily walk through."

          "One of the few advantages to being small," agreed Kickback.  "And our outer door was sealed with a neural lock – and it recognised my mental signature.  That means the rest of this will be easy; the computer thinks I'm still a Sabocon and will let me access it.

          "Of course, the question is: Does the computer still work?"  Kickback opened a door into what had been the Sabocon's conference room.  "Hmph.  Looks like someone's been through here already.  Not that I'm surprised – we _have_ been gone for four million years, and someone might have made a back door."

          "Hmm, I hope the information in the computer is still intact, then."

          Kickback grinned slightly at that, then crossed the room to the console.  "Most likely," he said, opening the small panel on the back of his hand again to extract the lead-wire.  "If the computer itself isn't damaged, no one but a Sabocon can get into it.  And since Shrapnel, Bombshell, and I didn't even remember the _name_ 'Sabocon' until recently, let alone know that that's what we were before we got turned into Insecticons, no one could have possibly got into the system.  Well, maybe Soundwave, but I don't see him hacking it without good reason."

          As it turned out, the computer _did_ work.  Kickback quickly set up a link between the Sabocon computer and the one in the Hive, to send whatever information was stored, and to erase it as it was sent.  It might have been out-of-date, but no point in leaving loose ends.  Besides, Bombshell wanted the old records for his own obscure purposes, and who was Kickback to argue with him?

* * *

          "Coronapis – here!  It's me, me!"

          Coronapis threw her arms around his waist, holding him tightly.  "Shrapnel…"

          "Shh, shh.  I'll keep you safe," Shrapnel promised, returning the embrace.  "Still, we have to get of here, and fast.  You seem to have lost Nihil, but I've got Ransack on my trail, trail.  I've sent a few clones running through the tunnels, but they won't confuse him for long, for long."

          They took off again.  "Do you have any idea which way is out?  And what happened to the others?"

          "For both, I'm not sure, sure," admitted Shrapnel.  "Skitter said we should just concern ourselves with getting back to the Hive.  She and Frostbite will help Bombshell back, back.  He must have been hurt, but she didn't explain, explain."

          They reached a chamber and paused.  "Neither of those corridors leading in here look like they go upwards."

          "We can either keep running, or I can create a few Insecticon clones and try to dig out, dig out," said Shrapnel.  "Except that might take too long, depending on how deep we are."

          "Let's chance it.  At the very least, we'll be able to make a stand against Nihil and Ransack, instead of getting cut down from behind."

* * *

          "There," said Skitter.  "Bombshell's out of danger, I think.  It should be safe to carry him now."  Then she sagged back against the wall, shaking all over.

          Frostbite laid a hand on her arm.  "You did good, hon.  Come on – let's shift to insect-mode and get out of here.  I'll carry him; I'm the stronger flyer of us two."

          "Okay.  I… I think I know the way back to the underground road," said Skitter.  "Follow me."

* * *

          With the information transfer started, Kickback wanted to search the base to see if there was indeed a breach anywhere.  Sway agreed readily, but wasn't interested in security so much as curiousity.  So while Kickback went to check on the perimeter walls, Sway went snooping.  Not that she would call it that if she was asked.  Luckily, the inner rooms weren't neural-locked, and the one stubborn door she had come across was easily forced ( It lead to a storage room.  Sway was disappointed. )

          The first door in the next hallway opened easily, into what Sway at first thought was another storage area, then changed her mind.  It was more like a workshop, but wasn't that, either.  After a minute, the term 'personal quarters' came to mind, and she settled on that.  Most Insecticons didn't have their own living space – they had no use for it.  Certainly Sway didn't; she owned nothing more than what she carried, and if she wanted solitude, she could easily find it – Coleop's entire sentient population was only about sixty, after all.

          The room she currently stood in was…  Sway considered the word 'messy', and discarded it.  Certainly things covered every surface, but somehow the overall effect was one of tidiness and organisation.  "His room," said Kickback quietly.  Sway hadn't even realised he was behind her until he spoke.  "Rebound's.  He was always working on things, making little devices…"  He smirked then, adding, "Sometimes he even completed them."

          The dragonfly stepped into the room, running her hand over – but not quite touching – various objects, until she saw a device she knew the function of.  Sway picked up the small disk, and tapped a button on its side.  A small hologram of a black Decepticon shimmered into existence.  The body was too angular and the silver wings were attached strangely, but the figure wore a smile she could recognise anywhere.  "This is you, hmm, isn't it?"

          "_Was_ me," Kickback corrected, poking a claw into the image and watching it flicker.  "I didn't know he even _had_ a picture of me."

          "Do you have any of him?"

          He shook his head.  "I don't remember.  Probably not.  Not my type of thing.  I'm sure there'll be a few images in our files, if you're curious."

          "I'm curious."

          Kickback grinned at her tone, then turned to lead the way back to the control room.  Sway's words were flat, faintly challenging… and meant she was absolutely itching to learn about Rebound.  And, frankly, Kickback was just as eager to tell her.  Not to brag about his former bondmate, and certainly not to compare him to Sway – it was simply that Rebound had, at one point, been the most important thing in Kickback's life, and he wanted to share that with her.

          To his irritation, Sway laughed when the picture came up on the screen.  After a few seconds, she explained it: "He looks like _me_!"

          Kickback's annoyance switched to himself – Sway was right.  Not exactly the same, and the colours were much different, but the general outline was there: Slender and angular with slanted eyes, short antennae, long wings, coloured noses, sigils on their shoulders… they both even had stripes down their chests.  If Rebound had survived the crash on Earth, his Insecticon transform would very likely have been a dragonfly.  "So I find a certain type of shape pleasing.  So what?"

          "Mm, I'm not complaining.  He _is_ visually appealing… mm, for a Decepticon."  Her tone changed abruptly from teasing to something more serious.  She rapped her knuckles on the armour plating of Kickback's midsection, still playfully enough to be non-threatening.  "Hmm, what was it like, being bonded to him?"

          "Good and bad," said Kickback.  "It was wonderful while it lasted, and as long as I exist, he'll never truly die.  But it hurts sometimes, and sometimes it hurts a lot.  But I don't regret being his bondmate, though.  Despite everything, I'm glad we had that."

          "He must have been, hmm, wonderful."

          "The best," agreed Kickback.

          Sway couldn't help herself: "What am I, then?"

          "You're the best, too, baby; just different," he grinned.  "You're certainly pushier than he was."

          The dragonfly returned the smile.  "And I thought I was, hmm, being remarkably patient with you."

          "You have been, Sway.  And I appreciate that."  Then, "I looked through all the outside corridors and there's no sign of a break-in.  It was only a visual search, though, so there might be a hidden door someplace…  Of course, it probably happened between four and two million years ago, before Cybertron was put into stasis."

          "Or someone hacked the neural-lock.  Hmm, _that_ wouldn't leave a mark," said Sway.  "You already admitted that Soundwave could do it, so maybe another could if he had similar skills."

          "Maybe."  Kickback mulled that over.  "I'm missing something here.  And I have a nasty feeling it's something extremely obvious…"

          A shadow fell over the two Insecticons, who found themselves hoisted into the air by their wings before they could turn around to face the newcomer.

          He looked different; his form Cybertronian, but still insectoid.  Not that he wasn't instantly recognisable.  "Venom…"

          _To be concluded…_


	6. Mr Venom, Hero

**Mr Venom, Hero**

          Venom sighed.  There was confusion in his mind – all his memories of being a Coleop Insecticon were tangled up and blurry – and he didn't like that.  Barrage had given him a fairly detailed report of his time on Coleop, but it was also extremely biased.

          _Of course,_ thought Venom, _Barrage would find my latest attempts at retaking the Sabocons brilliant.  Barrage will do anything to avoid thinking for himself._  Even the scarab's plan to return Venom's sanity was for the express purpose of getting his leader back.  Once Barrage decided that the cicada was functional again, he had lapsed back into drone-like silence.

          Chopshop wasn't quite so hopeless, despite his dislike of making choices, for fear that he might make the wrong one.  All Venom had to do was say, "Do this, because it's right," and he did.  At least Chopshop had the sense to realise that everything _wasn't_ right…

          His attention shifted from inward musings to the security cameras.  Being the former liaison between the Sabocons and the rest of the Decepticon army, the neural-lock let Venom in through the front door.  He couldn't get into the computer himself, but since Kickback so kindly activated it…

          The information in the databanks didn't interest him – it was four million years out of date.  Besides, stopping the flow of information might alert the Insecticons.  Instead, he watched the screen and tried to think of a way to get through to Kickback.

          _Kickback…_  Venom thought of the warrior as one of his failures.  He couldn't read Kickback, who could shut off all outward signs of his thoughts, his feelings…  With his training, Bombshell was almost as bad – _Megatron probably had him programmed to be a psychological warfare expert just to annoy me_ – but Bombshell's thoughts could at least be guessed at.  Kickback was a closed book, and Venom had made a pet project out of trying to read him.

          Now it was important that Venom get past the mask.  Without an idea of how the grasshopper thought, he could never know how to convince him that the Sabocons would be better off under Venom's control…

          _'Insecticons',_ Venom corrected himself.  _And they need me now more than ever.  They can't stay ahead of the Decepticons forever, not without someone who understands the empire's politics.  Sooner or later, they're going to slip, and the Decepticons will step on them._

          Currently, Kickback sat in the cell, staring at nothing, his face blank.  Conversely, Sway was almost embarrassingly easy to read; she had an uncomplicated mind.  There was black, there was white, and few shades of gray in between.  Such minds were easy to control.  One filled with gray thoughts was better controlled by sowing confusion and doubt… and _then_ twisting it to his advantage.

          Venom didn't have the faintest idea which way Kickback thought.

* * *

          "Huh?..  This is the medbay…"

          "To hear Skitter tell it, bringing you back was quite an ordeal, ordeal."  Shrapnel clasped Bombshell's arm and grinned.  "Though, knowing her, she was exaggerating, just a bit, bit.  She and Frostbite were unharmed, if you were wondering."

          "I was."  Bombshell let Shrapnel and Coronapis help him to a sitting position, performed a quick internal scan on himself, and decided all his systems were in their proper alignments.  "Nice to see you two made it back all right.  What happened to you after you ran off?"

          "I lost Nihil, but Shrapnel found me," said Coronapis.  "He managed to throw Ransack off his trail with a few clones.  Eventually we just used the clones to dig out of the nest.  It wasn't enjoyable waiting for them to finish, I can tell you."

          "And just after Shrapnel ran off, Ransack shot me.  Ransack is immune to cerebro-shells – ugh, I should have known Venom would have made the adjustments."  Bombshell hopped down from the table, testing his limbs.  "He said a few things while faking being under my control, so I have no idea if he was lying about it or not."

          The Queen chuckled without humour.  "Nihil _does_ seem a bit determined to decapitate me, if that's what you mean."

          "There was more."  Bombshell would have preferred to talk to Coronapis alone about her impressions of the warrior Queen, but the day's events had put Shrapnel into a protective mood, and he didn't seem inclined to leave her, even in the safety of the Hive.  _I suppose it doesn't really matter.  They're bonded – Shrapnel will know everything Coronapis knows, eventually.  And he knows better than to interrupt me._  "Ransack said that Nihil thinks like an ant, and that she has some kind of control over him."

          "She still has her pre-Insecticon memories of being an ant," said Coronapis, thoughtfully.  "She remembered taking over an ant colony before, by being captured and killing the host queen.  Now that she's an Insecticon, the colony she has to, by nature, take over is ours.  As to control…  Well, all I know was that I was running before she even started chasing me."

          "What did she say, exactly?"

          Coronapis considered that.  "I asked her who she was and what she was trying to do.  She said, 'I was born long ago, and fulfilled my purpose; I was taken by the Others and replaced their queen.  Perhaps my daughters have done the same since.  I do not know.  Then I was reborn, but you were not with your colony.  I could not make it mine.  I am Nihil, the queen of the ants reborn.'  Then I ran."

          "Why did you run?"

          "She was going to try to chop my head off.  Why do you think I ran?" she asked dryly.

          "How did you know she was going to try to decapitate you?"

          "She _said_…"

          Bombshell cut in: "She didn't.  Nihil strongly implied that she was going to kill you, yes, but never stated the method.  I suppose Shrapnel just told you later."

          "He… didn't."

          The beetle nodded.  "I didn't, didn't."  He tightened his grip around Coronapis slightly when she gave him a curious look.  "Well, you were already exhausted and upset, and I didn't think telling you something that… that _nasty_ would have benefited you."

          As Bombshell was out of questions for them, Shrapnel and Coronapis left the weevil considering his next move.  After a minute, he activated his radio: "Bombshell to Skitter – Where are you?"

He had to damp his audios at the ant's delighted squeal: _"Eeeeee!  Stodgyweevil!  You're repaired!"_

          "I _know_ that I am, but thank you for telling me."  If he had a mouth, Bombshell would have grinned.  "Now then, where are you?  I need to wring a report out of you."

          "I'm in Frosty's lab."

          The entomology laboratory, the place where Frostbite dissected Coleop insects to study and categorize.  It was a place that Skitter couldn't be dragged into.  "What are you doing _there_?"

          "Staying out of Frosty's way.  Come on over – We've got something you might find interesting…" 

* * *

          "You two sillies managed to catch one of the ants on your _own_?"

          "Yep," said Skitter happily.  "_And_ while we were lugging _you_ around, too."

          "Ignore her, hon," said Frostbite.  "One happened to be in the underground road, so I stung it and carried it back here."

          The copper ant was paralysed and unconscious, as well as strapped to the table in Frostbite's lab.  And, despite his outward incredulity, Bombshell _was_ proud of the two techs.  Neither were fighters and wouldn't have been able to capture the large ant by force, but apparently Frostbite _had_ managed to synthesise the correct pheromone to make the ants think they were friends, which enabled her to get close enough to paralyse it.  And Skitter, who was – for want of a better term – squeamish about working on living robots had managed to stabilize Bombshell after Ransack shot him.  Skitter was even worse about working on insects, but had decided that since she was part of the project, she should be there, even if all she did was sit on the counter at the far side of the room and dangle her feet.

          Frostbite and Bombshell had a section of the unconscious ant's head open.  It had been infected with Venom's nanomachines, but they cleaned those out and attached a few probes to the insect's brain.  "Skittles!" Frostbite called over her shoulder.  "Get your petiole off my counter and go check the readings."

          The tech hopped down and went to the indicated machine, then read off the display aloud, finishing with, "Hope those numbers mean something to _you_, Frosty, because they don't to me."

          "They _do_ mean something.  They just don't make a lot of sense."  Due to the Insecticons' usual screwy mentality, they only had one entomologist, and Frostbite was her.  Bombshell had picked up a bit of the biological sciences while on Earth, but it was no where near Frostbite's level.  Which meant there was no one who could actually understand her work.  _I swear, the next Insecticon built will be a biologist…_  "Bombshell, increase power to probe number four.  Skitter, what does the indicator say now?"

          "Energy output jumped by almost zero-point-two percent."

          The wasp frowned.  "This doesn't make sense.  Why is it giving off so much energy under stimulation?"

          "That's the communication centre of its brain, isn't it?  Hmm."  Bombshell wandered over to the graph displays, then pointed at one.  "The pattern looks vaguely familiar…  Sort of like the energy readout for a low-level radio transmission…  Frostbite, could Coronapis have known instinctively that Nihil's species has a habit of decapitation?"

          "No possible way," retorted the entomologist.  "Coronapis is termite-based.  While some ant species have termite slaves, they don't do the 'kill the queen and take over' bit to them.  And this copper species is new to _me_, so she couldn't have heard about…  Hey, I've _got_ it!"  Frostbite did a little wasp-dance, then grinned at the others.  "Those copper ants have those big brains because they need them for greater than normal energy output!  They're _telepathic_!"

          "That's nuts," said Skitter.  "They might be metal, but they're _organic_.  Organic minds aren't powerful enough for telepathy.  Besides, those ants are just animals."

          "Sentience has nothing to do with it, and the weakness of organic minds is a common misconception," said Bombshell.  "Not as powerful as our internal radio, certainly, but the minds of these ants are strong enough for their thoughts to reach outside of their heads.  All these use it for is communication, thought pulses rather than just sound or pheromones."

          Frostbite nodded.  "And since Nihil's still got her ant mind…"

          "She projected," finished Bombshell.  "She probably didn't even do it consciously."

* * *

          "Stupid, stupid, stupid," muttered Kickback.  "Venom was on the front door's neural-lock because he was our liaison with the army, though he _wasn't_ on our computer lock.  And he's still got his Decepticon mind, so the door happily let him in.  Ugh."

          "Hmm, stop moping and help me think of a way out of here," Sway grumbled.  "You probably designed this cell in the first place…"

          Kickback made a face.  "Probably, and I would have made it impossible to get out of."

          "You overestimate yourself," snorted Sway.  "Hmm, maybe I could set a vibration that could rattle the shield generator enough…"

          "You won't have to do that."

          The grasshopper glared at the figure standing beyond the shield.  "What do you want, Chopshop?"

          The beetle keyed in the sequence to remove the force-field.  "I'm letting you out of here.  Venom might be sane now, but it's gone too far.  Return to Coleop.  Warn the Insecticons."

          "Hang on," demanded Sway.  "Hrmm, what do you mean Venom is 'sane now'?"

          "He's not an Insecticon any more… not a Coleop one, anyway," said Chopshop.  "He still looks like one, but he's a Cybertron robot again.  His mind was incompatible with the inputs from his former part-insect body."  He spread his hands.  "Look, that's just what Barrage said, and it seems to have worked."

          Kickback watched the warrior carefully, searching for any signs of deceit, and decided he was telling the truth.  "Come back with us.  I'll put in a good word for you."

          Chopshop shook his head.  "My place is with Venom.  Besides, I have to keep an eye on Barrage.  Go quickly; in three minutes, I'll raise the alarm."

* * *

          Venom, watching the monitors, considered stopping Kickback and Sway from escaping, and decided not to bother.  He wasn't particularly thrilled with Chopshop's disobedience, but chose to let it slide.  He could always mention that he knew about it some other time, when it might have some advantage.

          Besides, Venom had a new plan.  The Insecticons had no hope of defending against it, not now.  Their own rebellious natures left them open to the simplest takeover imaginable…

* * *

          Summoned by Kickback, what passed as the upper echelon of the Insecticon subfaction convened in the chamber they designated the council room.  While they had no true command structure, it was generally accepted that Shrapnel, Kickback, Bombshell, and Coronapis led the Insecticons.  Sway, Frostbite, and Skitter tagged along for the meeting.  Once they were all seated, Kickback tapped the table to catch their attention: "Venom's on Cybertron, and sane again."

          Bombshell spoke first, saying only one word, but it summed up his thoughts succinctly, if impolitely.  Shrapnel frowned.  "If Venom's on Cybertron, he's not here bothering us, us.  I'm more worried about Ransack and Nihil, nihil."

          "Forget them," snapped Bombshell.  "They've run off somewhere.  Venom is the greater threat!"

          "Venom who just happens to be _your_ old rival, rival!"

          "Yeah?  And Ransack and Nihil tried to kill Coronapis!" Bombshell retorted.  Then, "Still, no reason to discount any of them.  They're all dangerous, even if they're no longer connected."

          Frostbite nodded.  "The warrior-Queen… she acts like an ant.  When Venom made her, he must have just attached the Jade Fan's cleared processor to the ant's brain.  She knows she's an Insecticon, but she still has all her instincts.  But it's _balanced_ – she doesn't fight her insect nature, but it doesn't overwhelm her intelligence."  The entomologist sighed, twisting her hands.  "Basically, Nihil's not going to give up until she's chopped Coronapis' head off."

          "And she's got Ransack's help, and he used to be a member of the Hive," agreed Skitter.

          "He loves her."

_          "What?"_

          The other six turned to look at him.  Bombshell shook his head.  "Not how you're thinking.  Maybe 'love' is the wrong word.  'Worship' is closer."  The weevil sighed.  "Sway, you remember how Ransack treated you?"

          "Hrmm, hard to forget," Sway grumbled.  "He claimed that while he _did_ beat me in a fight, I was a decent challenge, so he'd keep me.  _So_, hrmm, flattering."

          "I think Nihil actually beat _him_," said Bombshell, steepling his fingers under his nose.  "She beat _him_, so he's decided that he belongs to her.  And he likes it."

          Kickback snorted.  "You're kidding.  Ransack's the biggest anti-authority bug I've ever met."

          "Because he didn't _respect_ anyone until now," Bombshell retorted.  "He _wants_ to be told what to do, but by someone he _respects_.  Which means someone who can thrash him.  Nihil's telepathic abilities might enhance it, but he's not fighting it."  He snorted.  "I never said Ransack was the sanest creature I'd ever met."

          Skitter kicked her heels against the legs of her chair.  "Were the other two like that, Barrage and Chopshop?  Wanting to be led, I mean, and that's how Venom got them?"

          "Probably, then once Venom had that hold, he could strengthen it," Bombshell agreed.

          "Though why does Nihil keep him, then?" asked Frostbite.  "She runs on instinct, not emotion.  And male ants are absolutely useless outside of mating, and even then, they only do that once before they die.  At least in most species."

          "She must find him useful, somehow," said Kickback.  Sway just snorted.

          "Just because she does things by instinct doesn't mean she can't have emotions," Skitter chimed in.  "You're our analyst, Bombshell – what's your guess?"

          The weevil sighed.  "I have no idea.  Come on – I only really saw her once, and it was for two seconds before Ransack caused the cave-in, and I was lying on the ground at the time anyway.  The only one of us who has actually spoken to her is Coronapis."

          All optics turned to the Queen, who had been silent until now.  "I don't have Bombshell's skill," said Coronapis slowly.  "And we spoke for only a couple minutes.  She showed no emotion, only her drive to fulfill what has always been her role.  Her confidence and sense of purpose are impenetrable.  She is Nihil, and that's all that matters to her."  She shrugged, then, "Kickback, what of Venom and the others?  You were the one who summoned us here."

          Kickback nodded.  "Venom's got a new body now – the insect inputs from his coleop body were damaging his mind.  Barrage realised this, and used the cover of the ant colony attack to drag Venom off to Cybertron.  And Venom's got himself holed up in the Sabocon base."

          "He's still compatible with the neural-lock, of course.  Scrap," grumbled Bombshell.  "Did he get into the computer?  The files you sent from Cybertron all came through all right."

          The grasshopper scowled.  "He got in, thanks to me.  I didn't know he was in the base until after I started the transfer.  He probably let it complete to avoid attracting attention."

          "What about the other two, two?"

          "We never saw Barrage, Shrapnel, though he's still with Venom."  Kickback paused.  "There may be some hope to bring Chopshop back, someday.  He's the one that helped us escape.  I told Mimic to have his people keep watch over them."

          "Good, good."

          Bombshell settled back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his nose.  "Venom sane again…  We are in _big_ trouble."

* * *

          "Cutter!"

          Cutter flinched as he recognised Kickback's voice.  Meetings with the warrior usually meant trouble, but, because he was polite and because running wouldn't help, he waited.

          The black grasshopper landed lightly, his expression neutral.  "Cutter, I… never had a chance to thank you for saving Sway's life after the battle."

          "I was just performing my function."

          "I'm still grateful."  Kickback sighed, then, "I don't know if I can ever truly like you, but I don't regret your existence."

          "I can't help…"

          "… Having some of my memories.  I know.  I don't like it, but I don't blame you for it."  The warrior turned to leave, then stopped.  "Listen, you may not have noticed this, but pretty much no one outside of Bombshell and myself care that you're sort of me.  If you're still worried about acceptance, Bombshell told me to tell you to look up Skitter and Frostbite.  He thinks they'll like you, and he's the psychologist."  With a faint smirk, Kickback left.

* * *

          Much as she loved people, sometimes Coronapis preferred to think things over alone.  Shrapnel was in a protective mood, but she managed to convince him she'd be perfectly safe in the Hive.  She didn't need to go anywhere.

          Now she sat on the steps of the dais in her chamber, one knee jackknifed so she could rest her chin on it.  _And where are you now, Nihil?_

          Their contact had been brief, a few words exchanged, before Coronapis fled.  If she had tried to reason with the warrior, she would be dead, and she knew that.

          Still…

          Bombshell said Nihil was telepathic, and assumed some of her thoughts had reached Coronapis' mind.  Coronapis could believe it.  There was _something_ about Nihil, something primal and… straight-forward.  _You would make an excellent Queen, Nihil.  Completely single-minded in your dedication; you would never doubt your function, as I sometimes do._

          Of course, she couldn't extend the offer – Nihil would insist on Cornapis' destruction first, and Coronapis had a healthy streak of self-preservation.  _Maybe I should ask one of the warriors to train me to fight, for self-defence, as well as the ability to help protect my people…_

          Coronapis stood, slowly, then turned to look at the great, pale gold 'tail' that was most of her body, and what connected her to the Hive and made her the Insecticon Queen.  For sixteen years she had been trapped in her chamber, tied to her body, until Bombshell figured out a way to separate Coronapis from the Queen.  It was often dull, unable to leave, but… but she had never truly doubted her purpose.  When Venom first attacked, she was sad that Barrage and Ransack and Chopshop – her 'children' all – had sided with the cicada.  It wasn't until she started spending as much time as possible as just Coronapis that she contemplated 'guiding' the sparks she created, and worried that she was to blame for the ones gone wrong.

          _Too much time away, just playing, thinking about things that I already had answers to,_ thought Coronapis, running a hand along the smooth metal of her body and her prison.  _The entire Insecticon cause – such as we have – prizes individuality and free will… and in a much more complete sense than the Decepticons would have us believe they do.  To 'program' a spark, even with the best of intentions, goes against everything we are._

          _But I was tempted to do it anyway, and chose to try to pass the duty to another rather than face the challenge…  But something in you spoke to me, Nihil.  You awakened instincts I thought had been lost to my Insecticon machinery, and you reminded me of who I am.  Despite my doubts, I am the Insecticon Queen._

          Coronapis stepped into her body, feeling the clamps and connections on her legs, and the old feeling of power.  She _did_ have an insect-mode, in this body, and she shifted to it, letting her senses adjust to her wings, her fangs, her six limbs.  Mobility was limited but, ah, there was strength, and her mind was opened to the Hive's computer…  So much to learn here, to experience later…

          She, a nightmare termite in gold and copper, folded her legs underneath herself in a posture that mimicked sleep, and let her mind drift on the currents of the Hive.  She was Coronapis, yes, but she was also the Insecticon Queen.  She just had to remember that…

* * *

          The space-bridge activated without authorization, but there were already a few extra guards – Mimic's spies on Cybertron had already called ahead to Coleop to warn them that they had company coming.  The guards took the traveller directly to what served as the Hive's council room.  By the time they arrived, Shrapnel, Coronapis, Bombshell, and Kickback were already waiting.  The prisoner didn't resist, and Kickback sent the guards away.  Then he turned his attention on the newcomer: "Coming here without back-up – Very brave of you, Venom."  He drew his rifle.  "Or maybe just stupid.  I'm not picky."

          Shrapnel held up a hand to stop the grasshopper.  "As long as he's here, we might as well listen, listen."  Then, to the cicada, "You have one minute."

          "I don't need it.  Read this."

          Venom handed Shrapnel a datapad, which he looked over carefully, Coronapis reading over his shoulder.  "This isn't possible… is it, Shrapnel?"

          "This might have been faked, faked."  With a thought, he activated his communicator.  "Who's on-shift up there, up there?..  Thornsharp, double-check the code I'm about to send, then report back with the verification."

          After a moment, Thornsharp signalled him.  Shrapnel listened, his frown deepening until it was a scowl.  He directed the expression at Venom.  "You went over us.  You went straight to Megatron, megatron."

          "Indeed I did.  And he has decreed that while the Sabocons were autonomous, you are no longer Sabocons."  Venom paused.  "By order of the Decepticon Empire, I lead the Insecticons."

_          "What!?"_ yelled Kickback.

          "Megatron didn't so much as _look_ at your qualifications!" snapped Bombshell.  "He only gave the order because he knew we wouldn't want him to!"

          The cicada made a sound like a shrug.  "I am well aware of that, but I don't particularly care.  I have what I want.  You Insecticons should have put more effort into staying on Megatron's good side."

          "We won't give up without a fight, Venom!" Kickback shouted.

          Shrapnel laid a restraining hand on his arm.  "No, Kickback, kickback.  We will."  Then, addressing Venom: "You're the leader of the Insecticons, Venom.  I was, but I give you the title and all it means, means."

          The stag beetle started to turn away, but he looked back over his shoulder and grinned.  "Which is absolutely _nothing_.  Lead all you like, Venom, but Insecticons don't follow, follow."

* * *

          "How long do you give Venom before he begs Megatron to let us be self-governing again?"

          "A few months, maybe.  He's very stubborn."  Bombshell looked back towards a spot on the ceiling.  "If he's smart he'll realise that we're just going to carry on as we always have, no matter who thinks he's in charge.  Hnh – We _are_ sort of like ants."

          Kickback followed his comrade's gaze as he leaned against the wall of the Hive's main lab area.  "Spiteful ants, maybe.  You're waiting for something."

          "Maybe."

          There was a rattle in the vent, followed by a splash and a screech.  Kickback looked up.  "You finally played a counter-prank, I take it?"

          "Yep."

          "I'd start running if I were you."

          "Sound advice," agreed Bombshell, but didn't move.  For his part, Kickback took a few steps away from him.  Just in case.

          After some muffled noises and clattering, Skitter dropped from the vent, dripping purple paint off of most of her upper body.  She stormed up to Bombshell, and poking a finger at his chest shouted, _"No fair getting me back!"_

          "You left the paint in my office."

          "Ooooh!"  She folded her arms petulantly and tapped her foot.  After four taps, she stopped, grinned mischievously, and threw her arms around Bombshell's waist… where his struggles to get free just got more paint on him.  After a minute, Skitter let him go, and with a cry of, "Nyah!" shifted to insect-mode and ran out into the corridor.

          Bombshell looked down at himself with a sigh.  "Great.  Now I need to wash this stuff off before it dries, or I'll have to have my paintjob redone…  Hey!"

          Kickback poked him again.  "Forget your paintjob.  If you're going to play, learn the rules.  You've been tagged.  You're supposed to chase her, you idiot."

          "What?"

          "Yeah!"

          Both Insecticons looked over to where the currently-purple ant was peeking around the door.  "_And_ you still owe me fifty kilograms of lithium-copper!  You _said_ you'd give it to me."

          "_You_ said I'd give it to you!" Bombshell corrected.

          "Close enough.  Now are you going to play for once in your stuffy life, or do I have to wallpaper your office again?"

          "It took _hours_ to undo your redecorating last time!  You stay out of there!"

          "Make me!..  Eeeek!"  Claws scrabbled on the deck plates as Skitter turned and bolted, weevil-mode Bombshell at her six heels.  Kickback grinned, then activated his radio to summon a clean-up crew to the lab.  Then, carefully stepping around the patches of wet paint, he shifted to his own insect form and chased after them both.  He knew it wouldn't be long until the majority of the Insecticons were swept up in the impromptu game of tag.

          Kickback vaguely wondered what Venom would think of it, but couldn't bring himself to care.

          **_The End._**


End file.
